


Green Fingers

by Whispersmummy



Category: Holby City
Genre: Clematis, Cutness, F/F, Fluff, Gardening, Greenhouse, Orchids, Romance, Smut, fantasies, growing stuff, post-secondment, sex outside (sort of), spinach, springtime, summertime, tomatoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-16 00:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whispersmummy/pseuds/Whispersmummy
Summary: Serena buys a new house. The garden is a mess.All chapters will be named after Peter Gabriel songs.





	1. Growing Up (looking for a place to live)

 

Serena really didn't mean to, but after returning from three weeks alone in France, she came back to a large and empty house and it all just felt wrong. Too full of old memories and stagnation. And she was supposed to be finding a fresh start, a better life, one that didn't remind her that her daughter wasn't there and make her feel like drowning in a vat full of Shiraz and lying in the dark for days.

So she put her house on the market and found a three-bedroom cottage on the other side of town, with a honeysuckle growing over the porch and room for two cars.

Bernie came with her to the viewing, and Serena told her that she valued her opinion and hinted that perhaps at some point they would both live there. Bernie had smiled at that. She'd nodded and agreed and commented that it was very nice and with three bedrooms Serena had enough room for Jason and a guest if she liked. Serena had taken Bernie's hand and kissed her cheek and put in an offer then and there to the estate agent, who stared at her blankly for a moment before shaking her hand and leading them out. Bernie thought he would be pleased when he got the commission for his sale, but wished he knew he had nothing to do with any of it.

A week after Serena moved in, Bernie came to visit. She'd hung back initially, wanting Serena to find her own feet, not wanting to be a crutch for her to lean on in her new house. Serena had phoned the first night, complained that the house felt odd. Bernie had reassured her it would get better with time. And the following texts Bernie had received had been a lot more positive.

Bernie was visiting and they were drinking tea in the small conservatory, basking in the warm late-April sun. Serena sighed deeply and squeezed Bernie's hand. “It's not that bad, is it?”

“Not at all,” Bernie replied, shaking her head. Bernie raised her eyebrows out the window and considered the garden. Serena noticed her expression and made an uncomfortable noise in her throat.

“Oh don't. I know it's hideous.”

“Could get a man in?”

“A man? I think not don't you?”

“Might need a team,” Bernie mused, ever the pragmatic woman. She pursed her lips in thought. “Could employ a landscaper.”

“I think I'd rather do it myself,” Serena murmured, then nodded, more determined. “Actually, I think I will.” Bernie turned back to her and gave her a soft look.

“Who needs men, eh?” Serena laughed.

“Well I've got another three months to do whatever the hell I like. Might as well put my time to some good use.”

“You're garden was beautiful at the last house,” Bernie said carefully, but relaxed a bit when she saw Serena smiling at her. “Did you do it yourself?”

“Yep. Every last inch. Took me twenty years to get it perfect. And then …” Serena trailed off and looked out of the window. Bernie's heart clenched and she wanted so much to climb onto Serena's wicker armchair and envelope her snugly in her arms. But she didn't. She let her have her thoughts and her memories. Let her feel what she was supposed to feel. Serena took in a deep breath. “Well. Now I have a new project.” She turned back to Bernie and although her eyes were a little wet, she had a contented and affectionate look on her face. “Reckon you'd like to help?”

“Oh, I'm not good with plants,” Bernie said, a hand in the air as she sipped her tea. “Had a spider plant once. It died. The kids were upset it didn't have babies.”

“Hmmm,” Serena said, eyes playful over her own cup. “Sounds like I have two projects then this spring.”

“What's that?” Bernie asked, truly clueless. Serena just smiled smugly at her, trailed her eyes over her new garden, overgrown and messy, and drank her tea.

*~*~*~*~*~*


	2. Digging in the Dirt (to find the places we got hurt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie gets roped into helping, and begins to learn a little about gardening.

April 30th

Serena had sectioned off the garden, using metal tent pegs and string. Bernie kept tripping over them as she followed Serena round the garden, listening to her impassioned explanations. Jason laughed at her each time and explained that had Auntie Serena chosen string in a colour other than green, Bernie probably wouldn't keep tripping.

Serena had taught Jason how to use the lawn mower. He had then gone away and done several days of research into lawn mowers, their history, how the mechanisms worked and the importance of cleaning them after each use. He had printed out a hundred pages crammed with information, expecting Serena to read through them so that they were both well informed.

Serena had politely declined and officially proclaimed him Master Of The Lawn, giving him full responsibility for the upkeep and maintenance of her precious green grass, which had at the beginning looked like it needed a scythe to cut it. He had gone full throttle in his duties, walking out along the midline path each morning, in his slippers, and checking in case the newly cut blades were anything other than moist and tidy. Luckily, it seemed that despite the overgrown mess Serena had began with, the grass underneath was thick and lush, without moss or too many weeds to contend with.

“Over here,” Serena indicated the right side of the garden, a patch of mucky ground in front of the thankfully intact greenhouse. “We will create a vegetable patch.” Bernie blinked at her use of ‘we’ but let it slide. She had just come over for coffee and a cuddle, both of which they'd already indulged in. Maybe Serena meant her and Jason, who had thankfully moved back in. “I thought, things we would probably eat, seems sensible.” Bernie nodded seriously, trying to convey that she understood, rather than not having a clue. What could you grow in weed-infested ground like that?

“I have read about Maris piper being a disease-resistant type,” Jason said, to them both. “And Charlotte.” Bernie smiled.

“I've no idea what you're talking about possibly some kind of flower,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Serena's smug grin, “but if something is called Charlotte, I think you should have it.”

“How sentimental,” Serena murmured pleasantly, brushing past her and pinching her side. Jason didn't notice Bernie’s silent flinch.

“Maris piper and Charlotte aren't flowers, Bernie,” he said, face horrified. “They are potatoes.”

“Potatoes have names?” Bernie asked, befuddled.

“Of course,” Jason replied, and that, apparently, was that.

Serena beckoned Bernie over to the greenhouse and they stepped inside. It was warm, Bernie thought, and bright. Shelving lined one side and a gravel area on the other. Bottles and tools and a see-through box with packets of seeds (Bernie assumed) at the far end. She felt a little triumph when Serena opened the box and started to filter through some seed packets.

“I thought we could sow some seeds together.” Bernie nodded. She obviously still meant her and Jason. “A bit later perhaps.”

“He looks busy,” Bernie agreed.

Serena frowned a little confusedly but didn't comment. She reached up and pushed open the small window in the ceiling glass of the greenhouse. Bernie's breath caught as Serena's thin jumper rose, and she saw a glance of soft-looking skin above the waistband of her worn-out jeans. That soft curve where her waist was. One of Bernie's favourite parts (although she had to admit, it changed frequently, sometimes it was Serena's calves, sometimes her shoulders). She swallowed. Serena eyed her and smiled, dropping her hand to her own hip.

“Paying attention?” Bernie nodded enthusiastically. “So, we’ll do some tomatoes and peppers maybe a few herbs for pots – might be best to start them off in here – and I've got dahlias and some marigold seeds and of course lobelia and verbena. Hmm,” she said, thoughtfully. “We might need to go to the garden centre.”

Bernie had no idea what all these lovely-sounding things looked like, or even whether they were flowers, but she listened entranced as Serena tongue danced over the Latin words. She hadn't seen her so passionate about anything other than bullying and alcohol for the last few months. It was wonderful.

“I have digitalis and osteospermum somewhere. Aha, here.” Serena reached around Bernie to the shelf beside her and grabbed a sandwich bag that held seeds. Inside was a label, written in Serena's hand. “Got these from a friend last year.”

They were very close together. Bernie could smell Serena's perfume. As Serena leant back, Bernie reached to touch her cheek and Serena smiled against her fingers, leaning into her palm and sighing a bit, her eyes fluttering. Her hand closed tightly around the sandwich bag. “Sorry. Please continue,” Bernie murmured, looking out towards the apple tree, watching Jason stoop down with some scissors to trim the grass neatly around the patch of earth, in a circle around the trunk.

Serena followed her gaze and as Jason had his back to them, she stepped up close and turned to press a kiss to Bernie's cheek. Bernie's hands caught her hips and Serena lay her chin against Bernie's shoulder.

It was brief, but it felt like heaven to Bernie. She was warm and soft and smelled so good. A significant lack of Serena in her life the last month had meant when she had come back, the small glances and touches and kisses we're all the more treasured. Bernie hadn't slept over. They hadn't been out to dinner together, although Bernie reckoned it wouldn't be long before she plucked up the courage to ask. They were easing slowly back into the warm swirly waters of their relationship, especially when it came to the physical stuff. Bernie knew how fragile Serena still felt. She knew how careful they had to be.

Bernie found it interesting – before she herself would have been the one most likely to get scared and run. In fact, she had done just that hadn't she? She supposed Serena wouldn't exactly run, if things were too much or she was overwhelmed, but she might break apart. Or turn into the scary shouty lady again. And that was the last thing Bernie wanted.

So, chaste and sweet and careful it had continued.

In the warmth of the greenhouse, they stood together and Bernie dropped another kiss against Serena's forehead. She felt Serena's arms slide around her back, the plastic of the bag rustling. And then Jason was standing up and turning back to them and Serena pulled away, but slowly, not like she was in a rush. Bernie felt the loss but also saw the contentment in Serena's eyes and managed to focus back on what Serena had been saying.

“Tomatoes are good. I like tomatoes,” Bernie said in the end.

“Good,” Serena said a little shyly, stepping back again, putting a little more space between them. “Peppers too? And herbs.”

“Ribena?” Bernie asked, trying to remember.

“Good try. Verbena,” Serena corrected. “The butterflies love them. They grow very tall. Perfect for the border, which will go against the wall that side.” She pointed out of the greenhouse and towards the left hand wall of the garden, where she and Jason had already dug out the turf ready for pretty things. “Maybe some bulbs, bit late to put those in though.”

“Always next year,” Bernie commented, kindly. Serena nodded and put the seeds into her see-through box.

“Okay, soldier. Let's get you some wellies.” She slipped past Bernie and out of the greenhouse. Bernie frowned.

“Are we going paddling?” she asked, following Serena out.

“Nope. I'm putting you to work.”

Turned out, Bernie had signed up to the Campbell School Of Horticulture without completely realising it. This was apparently Serena's second project – to instruct and guide Berenice Wolfe in the art of cultivating flowers, fruit and vegetables.

“I do enjoy gardening, but I must admit to it being rather a lonesome hobby,” Serena explained.

“I told you,” Bernie said, chewing her lip. “No good at plant husbandry. Plants and me do not mix.”

“It's not innate,” Serena said, standing on the path and reaching for Bernie's hand. She smiled gently down as their fingers interlinked. Bernie smiled back. “I learnt from the couple next door when I was a child. So,” Serena shrugged and squeezed Bernie's fingers, “you get to be the one I pass on the wisdom too.”

“Don't feel like you have to,” Bernie said, very slowly and very sincerely. Not wanting to offend but not wanting Serena to put too much pressure on herself.

“I want to,” Serena said, equally as seriously, eyes shining out so much affection it made Bernie's chest hurt. “And it's something we can do together.”

“Hmmm.” Bernie wasn't convinced.

“Something that isn't work? Something a bit more … productive and long term, I suppose.”

“Okay,” Bernie relented finally, after a few moments of gazing imploringly at one another.

Their hands parted and Serena went into the shed next to the conservatory whilst Bernie stood awkwardly on the path. Jason went inside to research some more about potatoes. Serena threw Wellington boots and heavy duty gloves and a large pitchfork at Bernie and pointed to the area meant for vegetables.

“Turn the soil over and I'll follow behind and collect any weeds you find.”

Bernie stared at her. “Hereth begins the lesson, I suppose,” she grunted and, not one to shy away from physical labour, and certainly not in front of a very determined vascular surgeon, she began.

Bernie threw the fork into the soil and leant a foot against it, pushing it in. The soil was full of clay and difficult to work. She put all her strength into it, levering up the soil and shaking the heavy fork to loosen the chunks. She figured if she could do this once a week she may as well cancel her gym membership.

She watched Serena bend at the waist, a rubbery container with handles by her side, raking her ungloved fingers through the soil to collect the weeds and throwing them into the receptacle. Bernie went back to work and by the time half the patch was upturned, she was beginning to sweat. Bernie pulled her hoodie off stickily and went to lay it over the back of one of the garden chairs, which surrounded a glass-topped table. She fanned herself and almost cared that the vest top she wore showed off too much cleavage for their current sex-free relationship (mutually agreed of course, so that both parties could sort out their own heads).

She eyed Serena from a small distance and considered how she was stood. “Careful. Bend at the knee.”

“Oh you're one to talk,” Serena shot back, smiling. She raised her eyebrows as she took in Bernie's exposed skin, pale in the bright sunlight. Her strong biceps and triceps, and the bright red gloves on her hands.

“I'm the one that'll have to carry you up to bed if you do your back in,” Bernie commented as she arrived back to her fork, but blanched and felt a bit shocked and uneasy. She caught Serena's eye. Serena gave her a sad but understanding look. That's not something they'd done in months.

Serena had a flash of Christmas Eve, of Bernie hoiking her up into her arms and lugging her upstairs (to the amusement of all three children and Jason) to lock Serena's bedroom door behind them, strip her naked and press a hand between her legs. She shook her head and spoke slowly and carefully. “I'll be more careful,” she promised. “Should take care of my back.”

“You should,” Bernie said. She shrugged and took the fork up again, spearing it into the soil like her life depended on it.

They worked for another half an hour until Bernie started to feel the sweat dripping down her cleavage. The last few inches of mud were turned over and Serena looked up from where she had reluctantly knelt to grab the last few weeds. Bernie grinned and held a hand out. Serena smiled gratefully and grasped it, allowing Bernie to help her up. Her jeans were dirty at the knee but actually Bernie thought she looked more beautiful than if she were clean. She was all earthy and flushed and happy. It made Bernie sad, because she hadn't looked like that for such a long time.

Dead on 3pm, Jason brought out three lemonades for them all, complete with ice. Bernie wrapped her sore hands around the cold glass and hissed a bit. Serena frowned a bit and clocked that reaction for later. She thought she had some E45 somewhere inside.

They sat on the edge of the patio, drinks resting on knees. Jason refused to sit on what was effectively a step and for standing on, his inability to think of things outside their assigned categories for once amusing his aunt, and he sat at the table. Bernie sipped at the cold bubbly drink and snorted as the bubbles flew up her nose. Serena giggled, actually giggled, and rubbed her back a little as she coughed, wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie which hung off the chair behind them.

“Thank you for your help,” Serena said after a while. “Really appreciate it.”

“No point in having the muscle round if I'm not put to good use,” Bernie quipped. Serena's eyes softened.

“That's not why you're here though.” Bernie nodded and bumped Serena's knee with her own. They smiled at each other.

“Your early potatoes should have gone in weeks ago, Auntie Serena,” Jason was saying as he looked up planting schedules on his phone.

“We won't have earlies, Jason,” she reassured him. “Just second earlies and main crop.”

“It's like a foreign language,” Bernie said, looking between them.

After they finished their drinks, Jason went back inside (it was time for Countdown) and Serena led Bernie by the hand (which Bernie thought was lovely, just lovely) into the greenhouse. She lay out all the seed packets on the shelf and they pulled up two old rickety stools to sit on and sort through them.

“I have three types of tomato, but those beef types are just not that tasty.” Serena held up a packet and Bernie took it to read the name: Sungold. “These however,” Serena said, her tongue tracing her bottom lip, “are delicious.”

“Are they?”

“Small, but very sweet.”

“Campbell seal of approval?” Bernie asked lightly. Serena nodded, amused. “Those are the ones.”

“Okay then.”

They put them aside and then chose a sweet pepper (bell) and a chilli pepper (cayenne) to sow also. Serena took three trays with small compartments in them and they filled them with seed compost. “Can't you just use garden soil?” Bernie asked.

Serena's expression was patient and kind, which in reflection expressed more than anything how far she'd come in three weeks. “Seed compost contains more grit and less nutrients. Why d’you reckon that is?” Serena squinted at her in affection. Bernie found she liked it, being questioned like she was at school, by the cutest person in the world.

“More … drainage?” Bernie reckoned that was probably wrong but was surprised when Serena beamed at her.

“That's right. And believe it or not the fabulous clay soil of the south-west is positively teaming with nutrients. And baby plants do not need lots of food until they are at least out of nappies.” Bernie chuckled.

They were sitting together on those crappy stools, that had apparently come with the house and Serena was planning on replacing with fold-up ones for easy storage, thighs touching, hunched over their seed trays. Serena shook some tomato seeds into her hand and held her palm out, praised Bernie generously when Bernie followed her instructions to place just two seeds in each little pocket. Bernie was blushing by the time they'd filled all eight, and Serena was grinned all the more, so she didn't mind.

The peppers they sowed singly, as Serena remembered they germinated well. After all the seeds were in, they sprinkled fine compost over them all and Serena handed Bernie the watering can. Bernie grimaced as she watered the tiny seeds, worried they'd wash away, but Serena's steady hand on her arm gave her confidence.

They slid the trays up one end of the shelf, where there was the most light. “How long will they take?” Bernie asked, eagerly watching the trays in anticipation. Serena raised an eyebrow.

“Fourteen days, maybe a few more.” She chuckled. “They're not going to sprout today.”

Bernie scowled and poked her tongue out. “I know,” she said, folding her arms and swinging round on her stool to face Serena. “Was there anything else to sow?” she asked.

“We shall do some more next week,” Serena replied, a hand moving to Bernie's upper arm, bare and smudged with compost. She had a smudge on her cheek too. Serena reached to wipe it but, having just been handling heaps of compost herself, she made the smudge bigger with her dirty fingertips. Bernie batted her away, smiling. “After you've helped me lug some manure and spread it over the veg patch.”

“Manure?” Bernie said, horrified look on her face.

*~*~*~*~*~*


	3. In Your Eyes (the light, the heat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie learns how to plant potatoes and take rosemary cuttings.

5th May

 

“Look, see those little shoots there?”

“These weird knobbly things?”

“That's it.”

“Those are its eyes?”

“Yep.”

Bernie looked incredulously. “Is that why that joke goes: ‘the potatoes have eyes, and the corn has ears’?”

“I expect so,” Serena replied, smiling.

They were sitting on new fold-up seats looking through seed potatoes, examining them with clear scientific interest. Well Bernie was. Serena was watching Bernie with scientific interest. She was back in the navy vest, the same one she'd worn the day she'd helped Serena dig the vegetable patch. Well, dug it for her really. Serena was relishing in the micro-expressions that hopped onto Bernie's face when she found a new shoot on a new potato.

“So, are they all sufficiently chitted?”

“Come again?” Bernie asked.

“I left them out over the weekend to chit, which means to grow little shoots.”

“Chit. Eyes. Sprouty things.” Bernie shook her head in wonder. “It's a whole new world to me.”

“That's okay,” Serena said affectionately, “for what it's worth, you're picking up the jargon rather well.”

“Thank you,” Bernie said.

“You're welcome.”

They gathered up the seed potatoes (maris piper, as Jason had recommended) and brought them out to the vegetable patch. They knelt down (on foam kneelers this time, after Serena's jeans had been all but ruined by the mud stains a week ago) and dug a valley in the soil with trowels, both of them wearing gardening gloves. Bernie smiled at Serena's and wondered where the actual hell she had managed to find leopard print ones.

Serena showed Bernie how to place the seed potatoes eyes-up in the little valley, one at a time. Bernie concentrated as she lay them in and helped Serena tuck them up with soil all around them. They patted the small mound down gently each time. Then they clambered up and took the kneelers back into the greenhouse. Serena smiled at her. “Go water,” she instructed, lifting a large spiny-looking plant that smelled nice onto the shelf next to their so far un-germinated seedlings.

Bernie stood and allowed the fine rose from the watering can to drench the small mound they had made, potatoes hidden underneath. She watched Serena move about in the greenhouse, collecting various things. They caught one another's gaze through the glass and Serena shot her a small smile.

Bernie took a breath and lifted the can so that it stopped spraying water onto the ground below. Serena had seemed low this morning. They'd sat with their coffees and watched daytime television for a while, Jason at work and not around to break the careful silence between them. Bernie had taken a leap and had slid her hand into Serena's, needing to make sure Serena knew she was here and that they didn't need to talk if she didn't want to. Then she’d thrown her some quip about getting muddy together and Serena had seemed to wake up a little, like she'd been deep in her own head for a while, and was newly awake.

Bernie left the can by the door of the greenhouse and poked her face in. “Okay?” she asked quietly. Serena smiled towards her but couldn't quite catch her eye. “You want a cup of tea?” Bernie asked, frightened to go too far by offering words of advice or a hug or … she didn't know what to do really. And it was up to Serena to ask for help. And a cup of tea was safe.

“Perhaps … it's Elinor’s birthday today … would have been… I just…” Serena looked sadly down at her hands.

“I didn't realise,” Bernie said, keeping her voice steady and her eyes soft. “Must be a hard day.”

“I'll say.” Serena huffed to herself in an irritated way, and almost slumped into her stool. Bernie stepped inside and slid onto the stool next to her. She took her gloves off. Serena's hands were already bare and she twisted her own fingers. They sat a moment.

“I could go home. If you'd like.” Bernie's voice was barely above a whisper. She moved involuntarily towards Serena when she noticed the tears in her eyes, but didn't touch her.

“No,” Serena whispered, her intake of breath shaky. “Please stay.”

In the bright greenhouse Bernie had started thinking of as their space (Jason never entered, he didn't like the heat or humidity), Serena leant her head against Bernie's shoulder. Bernie could do nothing else and wrapped her arms around Serena's shoulders, burying her nose in Serena's hair and feeling Serena's hands grip her tight along her back. Serena wasn't crying, there were no sobbing noises or flowing tears. She was just melting into Bernie's arms. Bernie wished Serena had allowed herself this all those months ago. But she was here now. And that was all that mattered.

Bernie allowed her own fingertips to draw circles across Serena's shoulders, lazy circles that she hoped could soothe, if just a little. Serena’s hands clawed into Bernie's back, Serena's forehead against Bernie's neck. Bernie reached up to stroke Serena's hair behind her ear.

“Rosemary,” Serena breathed after a while, her lips so close to Bernie's neck that Bernie felt the puff of air against her skin.

“Hmm?” Bernie asked, looking down at her.

“The plant we're going to take cuttings from. It's a rosemary bush that Elinor bought me for Mother's Day once.”

“That's a nice gift. I mean,” she corrected as she continues to stroke Serena's hair, “it'd be a nice gift for you.”

“I full intend on one of these cuttings making its way to your flat at some point,” Serena said, a smile in her voice. “You could do with some foliage around the place.” Bernie relaxed somewhat.

“That might not be the best idea, Serena.”

“Oh it'll be fine.” She pulled back, eyes still watery but smiling. Bernie slid her hands down Serena's arms to her own hands, smiling as she watched their fingers scissoring together. “It's very easy to keep rosemary. And we'll start it off here.”

“Okay,” Bernie replied, no other choice coming to mind right then. Serena reached to touch Bernie's cheek and they shared an affectionate look.

“Sorry,” Serena sighed and Bernie was reminded of the second time they'd kissed, that bright shy smile Serena had allowed onto her face. Bernie shook her head.

Serena showed Bernie how to find new growth on the rosemary plant, explained how to cut off a branch, then how to prepare it for replanting. “I've heard different perspectives when it comes to rooting powder,” she said, holding up the small tub that looked like it contained pepper. “Some say definitely use it, but some don't bother.”

“We could do an experiment,” Bernie suggested, pleased she'd finally found something she could contribute with. “Do half with, half without?” Serena smiled, rubbed Bernie's arm a bit, and took out some pots and labels.

They worked side by side. Serena cut branches off and Bernie cut the branches to length, taking off any excess side-branches and leaves from the bottom. They dipped half in rooting powder, planted them four to a square pot, the little cuttings at each of the corners. Bernie thought this was odd but Serena explained this was how it was done. “I forget why,” she said, a flippant hand in the air.

Three pots with, three without, and twenty-four plants total. Bernie took the can from outside and watered them all. They sat again on the stools and considered their handy-work. “Fancy placing bets on which ones will do better?” Serena asked, a glint in her eye. Bernie smiled.

“How many milky bars this time?”

“Oh I wasn't going to bet actual prizes,” Serena said.

“You had something else in mind?” Bernie asked, a little flirtingly, and failed to catch her own tone of voice before the words were out of her mouth. Rather than back-stepping or apologising, as she had been for the last few weeks, she tilted her head a bit and waited for Serena's response.

Serena inhaled deeply and smiled a little. “Just the knowledge that whoever wins picked correctly.” She looked over at Bernie, leant her arm against the shelf, tilted her head too. Then she moved in a little, their noses an inch apart. Bernie waited.

It had been months since they'd kissed properly, not including their last kiss on the roof. Before that they'd been so distant with each other. And after, Serena had been away, and when she came back, Bernie hadn't pushed her. Cuddles here, touches there. But so far, no snogging, not like when they were first together.

So Bernie waited. Serena's brown eyes looked up at her with such trust. And something else as well, something that Bernie recognised. Bernie swallowed. “Just …” Bernie reached to squeeze Serena's hand. “Just … There’s no rush.”

Serena shook her head. “I'm not rushing.”

“I don't expect anything.”

“I know.” Serena blinked a bit, moved another half-inch closer. She twitches her chin up a couple of times. Bernie's gaze fell to Serena's lips. Serena moved forward and there was a sharp intake of breath from them both as their lips met, soft and a little shaky. Bernie kept her hand in Serena’s but felt Serena's other hand come up to card through her hair.

The kiss broke quickly and they shared wide but silly smiles. Bernie finally reached up to touch Serena's cheek, thumbed her cheekbone a bit. “The ones with root powder,” Bernie said a little croakily. Serena chuckled and shook her head. Bernie cleared her throat.

“Is that what you're betting on to win?” Bernie nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

They spent some time in the greenhouse, getting to know one another's kiss again, after so many weeks. Bernie felt like she was learning, even if it wasn't strictly gardening-related or part of the scheduled curriculum Serena had planned for her.

*~*~*~*~*~*


	4. Here Comes The Flood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They got to the garden centre, and Bernie makes Serena a gift.

May 9th

Serena and Bernie and Jason were piled into Serena's new car (the VW was much nicer than her green Saab that spent more time broken that actually being drivable), on their way to the local garden centre. The week before, Bernie had suggested politely that perhaps they didn't really need Bernie there, but Serena had kissed her cheek and taken her hand and said she wanted Bernie's opinion before she bought anything.

Bernie had been on Pinterest since then and had been randomly searching for ‘things for a modern garden’ and such like. And after Jason commented over dinner one night that the sound of water created harmony and tranquillity in the suburban garden, she started doing a bit more research. She found out, with great interest and amazement, that you could make your own water feature, by buying a solar-powered pump with fountain attachment and an enclosed pot of some kind. She ordered a pump from the internet and planned on buying some kind of pot from the garden centre. She figured it was Serena's garden and therefore Serena could choose the pot. She'd kept it a secret so far, planned on surprising Serena with her idea over coffees at the café (that Serena had promised her, in return for her support choosing plants).

They arrived at the garden centre and Jason unfolded himself from the back seat. Serena took Bernie’s hand as they walked through the gates and Bernie shot her a smile, squeezing her fingers warmly. Serena smiled back. Bernie hadn’t been to a garden centre for some years and Serena watched her eyes widen at the amount of plants stacked on waist-high shelves all over. It was like a huge outdoor supermarket, a punch of colour at every opportunity, flowers blossoming and buds unfolding. New growth sprouting out of branches of bare-root fruit trees on one side, smaller plants on the other, with tiny flowers and wafts of scent.

Serena was surprised when Bernie recognised a verbena plant. Bernie smiled smugly, then admitted she’d googled the plant and checked out various pictures on the internet. Serena smiled all the more, pleased that Bernie had gone out of her way to find out about a plant she had herself mentioned she liked.

 

Jason was taking notes on a journalist’s notebook, cataloguing each plant he saw. “It might take you a while to note them all down,” Bernie commented kindly, and he looked up.

“True,” he replied, frowning. “How am I supposed to choose?”

“Perhaps just look at the ones on Serena’s list?” Bernie suggested.

“I can remember them all, I think,” Serena said, handing him the list. He nodded very seriously and took the list, reading it thoroughly, before walking off, head down and fingers touching his chin thoughtfully. Bernie watched as Serena’s gaze followed him for a moment, fondly. “He’s really become rather interested in gardening,” Serena mused.

“Must be your passionate influence,” Bernie replied. “It’s worked with me.”

“Hmm.” Serena looked pleased. Bernie felt pleased because Serena was pleased.

They walked round for about half an hour, taking their time, secure in the knowledge that Jason would be at least another half an hour. He had declined a hot drink and they sat at the bistro table and watched him walking round the alpine section, checking each plant label and comparing it to his aunt’s list. Serena sipped at her tea, face relaxed, letting out a little content sigh as she watched him.

“I had this idea,” Bernie started, not really sure how to word it now that she’d come to it. She felt a bit nervous and stuttered over her words. “I-I thought I c-could make you a water feature.”

“A water feature?” Serena narrowed her eyes a bit and considered this. “What kind? Not one of those ghastly brass ones?”

“No,” Bernie said sniggering, as she watched a very well-groomed couple pushing a trolley with a similar contraption stacked inside it, towards the tills. “I was thinking something simple. I already have the mechanics; just need you to pick the receptacle.” She looked hopefully and a little anxiously, at Serena, who folded her hands across her middle as she leaned back in her chair.

“Hmm. So not a spur of the moment thing?”

“No. Been planning it for a few days.”

“Any reason why you wish to adorn me with homemade gifts?” Bernie caught her eye. Serena seemed nervous too.

“I …” Bernie took a breath in. “I never got you a valentine’s gift.”

“I didn’t deserve one at the time.” Bernie decided not to argue, but instead, looked out towards Jason, who was inspecting a lemon thyme plant with interest, touching its leaves carefully and inhaling with his hand to his face.

“Well, you deserve one now. A belated gift, from me to you.” Bernie shrugged. “Don’t worry if it’s not something you want. You could have a voucher or something instead.” She looked up at Serena, embarrassment tinging the edges of her expression. “Get something else.”

Serena leant forward and lay her hand over Bernie’s on the table. Bernie smiled shyly at her wide smile and crinkled eyes. “It sounds like a lovely present,” Serena said quietly.

“Alright,” Bernie replied, dropping her head forward and hiding a little behind her fringe, which fell over her eyes. “Jason gave me the idea, actually,” she admitted.

“Ah, yes. I do seem to remember a conversation about running water in cities being beneficial for … something-or-other.”

“Calming. Relaxation. Something.”

They sat together, Serena’s hand atop Bernie’s, and drank their cups of tea. Serena people-watched for a while, not needing conversation, just wanting to be for a while, just together and just existing. A few people smiled at them, she noticed, glanced at their joined hands, and nodded in acceptance. She noticed it made Bernie grin under her fringe, made Bernie’s eyes lock with hers in some secret knowing and lingering gaze that made her chest feel warm and her stomach flip around a bit. It was a nice and special feeling.

After a few minutes and a few smiles from other patrons, Bernie turned her hand over and interlocked their fingers, a proper hand-hold that no one passing by would mistake for anything close to platonic. Not that the looks between them didn’t immediately give their relationship away to anyone bothered enough to look. Serena moved her chair a little toward Bernie’s and they sat almost side by side, watching the families and other patrons milling about.

Jason came over after half an hour, as expected. He eyed their cups, empty for a while now. “Why are you still sitting down? Are you tired, Auntie Serena?”

“Just enjoying our day out and relaxing, Jason,” Serena explained. He considered this.

“Well, you are still on sabbatical. And that means you should be relaxing.” He frowned. “But we have things to do. Like finding you all the plants on your list. Which, by the way, I have located and can show you, if you like.” He grinned. “I drew a map and have noted their locations.” They both grinned back up at him.

“Sounds like a plan,” Bernie agreed, and they got up to follow him around the various displays, listening seriously as he pointed out each individual variety of each plant on Serena’s list.

Once they had a plant in each hand, they located a trolley and filled it with more, Serena becoming enthusiastic over a particularly vibrant cone flower (echinacea) and a rather fluffy-looking white dangly thing with ballet legs (a fuchsia). When they arrived at the pot-and-container area of the garden centre, Bernie nodded towards a large plastic barrel, eyes questioning. Serena walked round the displays, picking up various pots and checking for holes. She found a few she liked, but in the end settled on one of the larger plastic barrels Bernie had originally indicated, which were made to look like real wood. She picked it up heavily and handed it to Bernie. "What d’you think?” Serena asked, and Bernie immediately nodded.

“Perfect.”

On return to Serena’s house, they transported all the bought plants into the garden and set them in a cluster of pots by the greenhouse. Bernie then took all the parts for the water feature from the boot of her own car, and sat on the step up to the patio to put it all together. Serena had already indicated a patch of earth in the flower border, close to the patio and the table set, so after making sure all the parts were present and correct (ever the methodical army medic), Bernie attached the solar panel to the trellis on the wall, pointing it carefully towards the west of the garden, to catch the afternoon sun. Then she unravelled the wires and connected the end to the pump.

Serena was boiling the kettle in the kitchen, looked out of the window to watch Bernie as she worked. She smiled softly, the mug forgotten in her hand. She watched Bernie hunched over her bent knees, back on the step again, reading the instructions that came with the pump. She watched as Bernie stood the pump with its tall spout, in the container she had chosen, chuckled in affection as the whole thing instantly fell over and Bernie looked blankly at it. Bernie frowned, said something Serena was sure she had never heard her say at work, and then routed round in the box, took a little packet of suckers, meant to attach to the bottom of the pump and stick to whatever surface it rested on.

It took few a goes, and the kettle was past boiled, when Serena caught sight of Bernie raising a triumphant fist in the air and picking up the container, wiggling it a little from side to side. The pump stayed in place, the spout only slightly waving about, as the suckers bent and squished. It was comical. Bernie’s eyes were bright and her hair shining blonde in the sunshine, curls swishing from side to side as she danced the barrel around. Then Bernie set the whole thing down on the earth, right where Serena had suggested. Trying not to giggle, Serena went back to making them tea.

When she took the cups out into the bright conservatory and opened the glass door outside, she found Bernie holding the hose stationary at her hip and raining water intently down into the barrel, filling it up. The fine spray made tiny droplets bounce on the water surface, like hundreds of tiny ping-pong balls in a sports hall. Serena left the teas on the garden table and stepped down onto the lawn to stand up against Bernie’s side. Bernie turned her head towards her and wrapped a free arm around her waist as they both watched the water fill up the barrel. “Very nice,” Serena murmured, hand wrapping round her own tummy and fingers scissoring with Bernie’s against the dip of her waist.

“It’s not even finished yet,” Bernie said, wiggling the hose up and down a bit to make waves in the pool. Serena breathed into the sunshine and rested her cheek against the roundness of Bernie’s shoulder. The birds were twittering in the hedge at the bottom of the garden, and some were perched in the apple tree, chattering away.

Jason came outside with his own cup of tea, sat in one of the garden chairs and watched with fascination as Bernie filled the water feature right up to the top. She depressed the spray gun, turned around and grinned at him. “Ready for the grand opening?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said, decisively.

Bernie stepped to the side of the border and reached up high to the back of the solar panel to press the switch. The water feature immediately shuddered and then started to spray in all directions, not one single thin strand of water actually landing inside the barrel. At that rate, the water feature would be empty in minutes. Serena put a hand over her mouth, trying desperately not to giggle as Bernie stared down at the tub in horror. Jason openly laughed, but stood and came over and pointed. “If you take off the cover with the holes in it, it will create an outlet of water at a much lower pressure, without decreasing the nice water sounds.” Bernie stared at him in confusion, and he knelt to carefully twist the top off the spout, creating a lapping and bubbling effect rather than a fine spray. He gave the lid to Bernie

“Oh, well done Jason,” Bernie exclaimed, clearly pleased and slightly in awe of the young man and his ability to guess what would happen in a logical situation.

“Simple physics,” he explained. “Larger outlet equals less pressure and speed. I hope we see a dragonfly laying its eggs in it. I’m not sure whether they prefer stagnant water or moving though.” He got his phone out and placed his tea down whilst he googled it.

“Lovely,” Serena said, and Bernie beamed at her. “Nicest valentine’s present I’ve ever had.”

“Truly?” Bernie asked, a little disbelieving.

“Honestly. Beats boring old flowers and chocolates.” Bernie’s beam widened. They sat on the step next to each other, and drunk their tea and watched the water bubbling away, listening to the soft sounds it made, the singing of the birds in the trees and Jason’s detailed description of the life cycle of the dragonfly.

*~*~*~*~*~*


	5. Red Rain (is coming down)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena plants out her border. It rains. Bernie plants onion sets.

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

May 12th

 

The sky looked grey. Serena had gotten up early on her day off and gone straight outside to finally plant her flowers into her border. Bernie had finished a night shift at seven and was therefore having a quick sleep during the morning, before popping over just before lunch.

 

Serena wanted to get the border finished before Bernie arrived. Bernie had asked her a couple of times how it was looking and Serena had felt a bit guilty that she'd had to keep putting it off. What with her new kitchen and downstairs bathroom being done during the week, she'd needed to stay inside to coordinate that. She never trusted workmen to do things right - she'd been bitten by that particular mistake before.

 

So, coffee set smartly on the glass garden table, and gardening clothes donned (including her worn jeans and an old Harvard T-shirt in burgundy, that had a few holes in and, if she was honest with herself, was a bit too tight around the bust) she grabbed her spade out of the shed and set to work.

 

And hour later she was sweaty and her coffee had gone cold, but the border was finished. Verbena and deep red echinacea stood against the wall, with a clematis carefully tied to the old trellis she'd discovered. Then a few herbs up near the house, lemon thyme, sage, a small cluster of chives that Serena hoped would flower soon. And further away, a yellow osteospurmum and a pale pink fuchsia.

 

Serena tidied up any spilled compost, stepped back across the path to consider her handiwork. She nodded to herself, looked up into the cloudy sky and grimaced. She could feel it in the damp air, the impending rain.

 

Bernie arrived after sleeping at her flat during the morning, ringing the doorbell in what Serena felt was an overly-excited way. When she stepped into the house, Bernie smiled gently at her. “How're you?” she asked. Serena smiled back, tilting a chin up and Bernie kissed her lightly, before slipping her arms around her waist and squeezing her. The threadbare cotton of Serena's T-shirt was soft under her fingers and Bernie found her fingertip snagging in a hole by her waist. She used the opportunity to tickle Serena's bare skin and delighted in the twitch and smothered giggle it caused.

 

“Very good, thank you,” Serena replied eyes bright, and Bernie leant back to take in her soil-tainted fingernails.

 

“More horticulture today?” Bernie asked, eagerly.

 

“I think it's going to tip it down later,” Serena admitted, looking a bit disappointed.

 

“Doesn't bother me,” Bernie shrugged. Serena breathed out a laugh.

 

“Come see the kitchen. It's finished.”

 

After proudly opening cupboards and displaying her new range cooker (“I'll make you a proper roast at some point, like we had at Christmas.”), topping up her own coffee and pouring Bernie a fresh one, then stood together at the kitchen window. Bernie grinned as she peered outside. “You finished it,” she said, such affection in her voice. Serena sipped her coffee.

 

“Got it all in this morning. Had a plan in my head but the actual physical labour had to wait until the kitchen was finished. And the boys only finished clearing up yesterday.”

 

“It's lovely,” Bernie said, eyes narrowed in emotion. She looked around the kitchen too. “It's all lovely.”

 

“Thanks.” Bernie's free arm, the one that wasn't holding her coffee cup, snaked around Serena's back, blonde curls resting against her cheek. Serena chuckled and snuggled her cheek against Bernie's. “Needs watering,” Serena said, teasing and hinting, shoving Bernie's hip gently with her own.

 

“Aha,” Bernie said, grin wide, “I knew there was a reason I was here.”

 

“You're exceptional watering skills,” Serena agreed. They smiled at one another and turned back to look out of the window. “It's a bit late, but, I thought we could pop the onion sets in too,” Serena suggested.

 

“Whatever the lady requires,” Bernie stepped away, drained her cup of coffee and set it by the sink.

 

They pulled on their wellies (Bernie now had a pair at Serena's house that were officially hers) and stepped outside. Serena went to get the onion sets whilst Bernie turned the hose onto the fine spray and drenched the newly arranged plants. She identified the verbena and Serena laughed as she pointed. “How about that one?” Serena asked, pointing at the deep red daisy-looking flower at the back. Bernie narrowed her eyes and thought.

 

“Daisy?”

 

“Try again.”

 

“Red daisy?” Serena chuckled and patted her arm and Bernie grinned back.

 

“That's the cone flower. Echinacea.”

 

“Isn't that good for the immune system?” Bernie asked.

 

“Studies do indicate,” Serena agreed. “But if you eat my flowers I will not be held responsible for my actions. Your health may be compromised.”

 

Bernie held the hose and her free hand up, defensively, submissively. “I'll leave them for the bees,” she promised.

 

Bernie put the hose back round the reel and grabbed a plank of wood from beside the shed when Serena asked her to. They lay the wood beside the line of potatoes (not that they could see them yet, just a small line of hills, like the Pennines, Bernie thought) and used it to walk along the vegetable patch. Serena stooped down, wobbling a bit on the rickety plank and Bernie watched her produce a strange wooden tool from her pocket.

 

“Um, I'm not going to say what that looks like,” Bernie said, eyes very wide. Serena frowned in confusion and looked at the tool.

 

“It's a dibber.” She blinked. “Oh God Bernie, where your mind goes,” she chuckled. Bernie blushed and watched Serena poke the tapered dibber into the soil, down to the perfect depth, before removing it and placing an onion set in. “These are baby onions. Much better to plant than seeds.”

 

“So, somewhere there's a crèche for baby onions? Someone's growing tiny ones to sell?” Bernie asked, incredulously.

 

“Why do you think they call them nurseries?” Serena deadpanned. Bernie's eyebrows hit her hairline and Serena smirked. “So easy to wind up.”

 

“Careful, it won't take much for me to accidentally wobble a bit and for you to end up face down in the manure we spread over here the other week.” Serena looked mock-horrified at her, and wobbled a bit. Bernie grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “I was kidding.”

 

Serena handed Bernie the dibber and net bag of onion sets. “Here. Put these babies to bed for me?” Bernie nodded. “Just so the tips are just covered by the soil. About four inches apart.”

 

“Right,” Bernie replied and Serena hopped off the plank of wood, into the greenhouse.

 

Bernie stooped down carefully on the plank and raised an eyebrow at the dibber before shrugging and using it to make a hole. She felt surprised and nodded to the dibber, impressed.

 

She side-stepped along the row and as she was around half-way along, cold rain started to splatter on her forearms below her T-shirt. She ignored it, she'd never allow a bit of rain to put her off the job at hand. She concentrated hard on planting the sets, covering each one tenderly and pressing the soil around them.

 

Once she'd finished she was a bit damp, soil coating her hands in wet clumps. She stuffed the net bag into her trouser pocket and rubbed her hands together to shake off the soil, then side stepped along the plank. She was nearly at the end when the plank unceremoniously rocked to one side and Bernie toppled onto her knee and heel of her hand in the rapidly dampening mud. She huffed, looked up at the greenhouse. Serena was looking at her, hand flat over her mouth, blatantly laughing behind it. She scowled and got to her feet, brushing her trouser leg down but failing to get rid of the wet soil plastered in a streak against her calf.

 

Bernie practically ran into the greenhouse, head down against the rain, pout ingrained into her features. She pulled the door shut behind her. The rain battered loudly against the glass, reminding Bernie of caravanning one Easter with her family. Serena quietened a bit and Bernie rubbed her upper arms, feeling the rain starting to soak through to her skin. “Oh dear,” Serena said fondly, a clean hand on Bernie's shoulder.

 

“Damn plank,” Bernie said, clearly unimpressed.

 

“Oh my love,” Serena murmured, thumb rubbing Bernie's shoulder. “The things you do for me.”

 

“I changed my mind about the rain,” Bernie said, dejectedly.

 

“Well,” Serena said, conspiratorially, “we can hide in here until it stops.” Bernie nodded, shivered a bit. Then she looked up and her pout vanished.

 

“Oh, look,” she said in wonder. Serena smiled.

 

“Yes, they popped through yesterday.” Bernie went to the four trays they had sown tomato and pepper seeds into two weeks ago. Tiny green seedlings had appeared and as far as Bernie could tell, all the seeds had germinated.

 

“They're so tiny,” Bernie said quietly.

 

“Yep,” Serena agreed. “Once they get a bit bigger we can prick them out and put them in their own little pots.”

 

Serena watched Bernie as she ran a fingertip very gently along the minuscule seedlings, her embarrassment at her fall into the vegetable patch forgotten for the moment. Serena's chest felt warm at the amazement in Bernie's eyes as she looked at the tiny living things they had created together. She put a kind hand against the small of Bernie's back as Bernie just gazed at them.

 

It was warm in the greenhouse and Bernie felt the chill from being rained on dissipate somewhat. She leaned against Serena's hand and then turned to her. “What's next, boss?” Bernie asked, renewed vigour in her eyes.

 

Serena chuckled. “I was going to sow some basil.”

 

The sowing of the basil was made more difficult by the fact that Serena insisted on standing close up behind Bernie and placing her chin on her shoulder. Under instruction, Bernie filled two small plant pots with compost and Serena wrapped her hands around Bernie's waist. She sprinkled seeds over the pressed down surface of the compost and Serena snuck her nose under her ear. She covered the seeds with more compost and Serena was kissing her neck and Bernie's had to turn in her arms to capture Serena's lips with her own, the basil momentarily forgotten.

 

They broke apart after a while, a little breathlessly and Serena was beaming. Bernie eyed her. “What's your game?” she asked, affectionately. “I thought I was supposed to be learning how to plant seeds.”

 

“Just trying to give you a bit of motivation to learn,” Serena replied, her smile broad and unabashed. Bernie stroked the sides of her neck and smiled back.

 

“Anything promoted this sudden rush of … needing to motivate me?” she asked.

 

“Spoke with Hanssen. Got a return date.” Bernie smiled and inhaled deeply, heart swelling.

 

“That's wonderful.”

 

“Another month to get myself up to par, and then I'm coming back.” Bernie wrapped her arms around Serena's shoulders and hugged her tight.

 

“I must admit, as much as Ric has been helpful, he's not you. I miss being part of AAU’s dream team.”

 

“I miss my team,” Serena agreed. They stepped back, shy smiles all round, and Bernie touched Serena's cheek.

 

“Are you sure though?” she asked, sombrely. “Are you sure you're ready?”

 

“I think so,” Serena breathed, serious too, leaning to kiss Bernie again, this time with a gentle affection rather than any heated urgency. Bernie's hands swept up and down her back, trailing over her spine. Her fingertip found another hole in that red T-shirt and poked into it. Serena chuckled and broke the kiss, stooped to collect the smaller watering can and she sprinkled water into the new pots of basil, before writing out the labels and sticking them in. Bernie smiled as she watched her.

 

“So, basically we have a month to get everything done out here? And then it's back to normal working life.”

 

“Don't think your lessons will end as soon as I'm back to work,” Serena said, moving the two pots neatly next to the trays of seedlings, and patting her hands together. “Got a whole harvest season to work through together.” She took in a deep happy breath. “If you like,” she added shyly.

 

“Oh, I like,” Bernie reassured her. “I've really been enjoying myself.” She seemed a bit surprised at that.

 

“Apart from falling into my veg patch and getting all muddy.” Bernie looked down at herself and pursed her lips.

 

“Hmmm. Ought to go home and shower,” she said decisively.

 

“Would you like to shower here?” Serena asked, her heart thudding anxiously. Her nervousness showed on her face. Bernie looked thoughtful.

 

“Only if that's okay,” she said carefully.

 

“Was going to try my new cooker out,” Serena said, breathily happy. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” Bernie sucked her bottom lip a moment and nodded.

 

“I'd love to.” Her voice was soft.

 

The rain had eased a bit. Serena looked up at the glass roof as if to assess their chances of making it to the house without getting drenched. “Come on then.”

 

They left the green house and tripped up the garden path to the conservatory door. Serena had sensibly placed a large mat inside the door for their wellies. Bernie stood awkwardly in her socks, jogging bottoms caked in mud, hands clasped in front of her as she watched Serena pull her boots off. “Better get those in the wash,” Serena mused.

 

“Oh no that's okay,” Bernie said. “I can put them in when I get home.”

 

“Don't be silly,” Serena said leading Bernie into the kitchen and standing in front of the washing machine with her hand out. “You'll only get mud everywhere. Strip.”

 

Bernie looked at her with wide eyes, then gave her a pleading look. Serena suddenly understood and smiled shyly at her. “Oh.”

 

“It's been a while,” Bernie agreed. Serena nodded.

 

“Want me to turn my back?” Bernie paused, then shook herself, smiling incredulously.

 

“No. Course not.” Bernie whipped off her T-shirt and rolled down her sodden jogging bottoms, pulling the net bag out of the pocket and placing it in a bin before passing Serena her clothes. “I think everything else is safe.”

 

Serena took the clothes from Bernie and held them a minute, her eyes trailing carefully over her body. The soft skin of her belly, her hip, those long legs. Bernie arms folded around her chest, head turned away. She noted the matching underwear, black and plain and sensible. The thick socks on her feet that made her look like a teenager. Serena blinked and looked away, pausing a moment before kneeling down to put Bernie's clothes in the machine.

 

Bernie allowed Serena to look, to get used to the sight of her scantily clad once more. Five months was a long time. She hoped Serena didn't notice how bony she'd got. She knew she'd lost weight, she knew they both had. She hoped that was okay.

 

Serena stood and they smiled shyly at one another. “I'd forgotten,” Serena whispered, not making any move to step closer or reach out. “How beautiful you are.”

 

Bernie hugged herself and looked away again, considering with great interest the tiles under her socked feet. “I love your flooring,” she said as a means of changing the subject. It still felt new and dangerous. Like they'd never seen one another naked before. Like they hadn't spent hours in bed together trailing hands and lips and tongues over one another's bodies.

 

“Thanks,” Serena said, choosing to follow Bernie's example and move to a safer topic. “It was this or red tiles.”

 

“The grey works. Definitely,” Bernie replied.

 

“I'll get you some towels,” Serena said and Bernie followed her out into the hallway and upstairs.

 

So far, Bernie hadn't been upstairs in the new house apart from to help Jason wire up his games console. Serena seemed to think for a moment, before holding out a hand to the main bathroom. “Here.” She pulled some fluffy towels out of the airing cupboard and handed them to Bernie. “I'll find you some clothes.”

 

“Okay,” Bernie said, feeling a bit tingly at the thought of being surrounded by clothes that smelt of Serena all afternoon.

 

Bernie showered quickly, using as little of the Serena-smelling products as she could (which was impossible, they all smelled of Serena) and towel-dried her hair. She found the clothes neatly placed on the closed toilet seat and pulled them on – a blue long-sleeved top and some soft grey jogging bottoms. She smiled as she realised Serena had chosen trousers with a drawstring. She pulled it tight and figured it would have to do.

 

She padded downstairs and peered into the kitchen, finding Serena on her laptop at the kitchen table. “Fresh coffee in the pot,” Serena said, pointing and Bernie went to help herself. She sidled up to stand behind Serena, hand on her shoulder, as she sipped at her coffee and looked at the laptop.

 

“What're you looking at?”

 

“Bay trees,” Serena said. “Fancy a couple in pots on my patio.”

 

Bernie looked at the picture. The trees came in large terracotta pots and had a thin trunk, then a ball of branches and leaves at the top. “Very stylish,” she commented. Serena turned to look at her.

 

“You like?”

 

“I do,” Bernie replied. Serena smiled and nodded thoughtfully. She clicked ‘buy’ on the website and stood to get her purse and fish out her credit card, sat back at the kitchen chair.

 

“Okay. Done.” She entered her details and address and sat back, leaning her head sideways against Bernie's ribs. “Nice shower?” she asked, idly.

 

“Very nice.”

 

“Hope the clothes are okay?”

 

“Perfect,” Bernie replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

 

“I'd quite like … if you'd like to that is … if you want to …” Serena huffed at her inability to form a complete thought.

 

“Serena,” Bernie breathed, dropping her lips to Serena's forehead and kissing her gently.

 

“What?”

 

“It's okay if you want me to go,” Bernie said, rubbing Serena's arms. “I understand if you want space.”

 

“Quite the opposite,” Serena breathed, hand flat against Bernie's arm around her. “I’d like for you to stay.”

 

“For dinner?” Bernie asked, clearly content with this answer, if nothing more.

 

“The night,” Serena said softly. Bernie touched her cheek and rubbed her shoulder and knelt down beside her. Serena caught Bernie's hands in her own. “If that's alright?” she breathed, hopefully.

 

“Only if you're sure,” Bernie said, seriously, tenderly. Serena nodded.

 

“What about what you want?” Bernie shook her head.

 

“You're setting the pace,” Bernie explained. “It's up to you.”

 

“But you would like to … I mean … you do want to?” Serena sounded nervous, worried.

 

“Of course I want to,” Bernie reassured her, palm against her cheek, tucking a tiny bit of hair behind her ear, and Serena exhaled on a relieved sigh. “So long as you do.”

 

“Yes,” Serena stated, squeezing her hand.

 

“Okay.”

 

Serena took a breath. “Just … don't expect …”

 

“Oh,” Bernie said, rubbing Serena's shoulder. “Of course.” She grinned. “Promise. I'll keep my hands to myself.” Serena grinned back and nodded. Her laptop pinged with a confirmation email for the bay trees.

 

“Oh goodie. Delivery in three weeks.”

 

“How convenient.”

 

“We should have a garden party, to celebrate my return from the land of all that is sabbatical.” Bernie stood creakily and pulled out the chair at a right angle from Serena's.

 

“That's a nice idea.”

 

“Invite all the AAU lot. Ric too, as he's been so supportive.”

 

“Hanssen?” Bernie asked. Serena nodded. “Think we can get him into those lederhosen?” Serena frowned, confused. “I'm assuming you've not seen the photos from the wedding?”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Jason had returned from work promptly and had seemed confused when he found Bernie in clothes identical to those his aunt owned. After the explanation, Jason seemed more accepting, however he did comment that if Bernie planned on falling into mud, she really should be more prepared and bring her own spare clothes.

 

He was, however, pleased at the knowledge that Bernie was sleeping over, grin wide and genuine, as always. He didn't comment on this, only to say that he expected pancakes in the morning.

 

Serena cooked a lamb roast with rosemary potatoes, carrots and broccoli. She’d forgotten dessert but Bernie promised that next time that could be her responsibility. They sat around the table together and smiled at one another, chatting lightly about their days and settling comfortably into this family unit they now had to learn all over again. Jason was interested in Serena's description of the flowerbed and, once it had stopped raining, expressed his intention to draw a diagram so that he could show Celia when he next met with her.

 

Serena allowed Jason off washing-up duties as he had been at work, but Bernie offered to help, so they stood together at the sink and watched the rain as Bernie warmed her hands in the warm water, and Serena dried up. Bernie eyed Serena's glass of lemonade and considered her gently. “Not on the Shiraz?” she asked.

 

“Um no,” Serena replied. “Thought it might be best to give it up for a while. Considering.”

 

“Hmmm,” Bernie said, wonder shining out of her eyes at the woman she was so proud of. “Reckon you'll ever get a taste for it again?” Serena shrugged.

 

“At the moment, it works for me, being tee-total.” She smiled, placing a saucepan back onto the hook by the window. “I'll see how it goes.”

 

Bernie followed her example by requesting a lemonade as well, and they settled on the sofa together. Jason had gone up to watch a box set in his bedroom, so they were alone. They started out sitting next to one another. Serena turned on the television and they watched an episode of Gardener’s World Serena had recorded from Friday. Bernie had seen it before but had never been interested in the slightest. Now, when Monty Don spoke about cutting hedges and planting seeds, she settled comfortably into the sofa and listened carefully, in case she caught something she could take away to impress Serena by remembering later.

 

She felt her eyes drooping when another presenter spoke about alpine plants and their values. The music was soft and the husky northern accent of the woman was pulling her into a calm snooze. She rested her cheek against Serena's shoulder, their hands clasped tightly between them, palm to palm, and Serena looked down at her. Serena reached up to tuck some of those soft blonde (and still slightly damp) curls behind Bernie's ear, then held her shoulder carefully and pulled a little so that they were both lying down on the sofa, Bernie's cheek against her shoulder. She tucked her chin into Bernie's hair and smiled as Bernie slid a hand around her middle. Serena squeezed an arm around her back and they shifted a bit to get comfortable.

 

At the end of the episode, Serena turned over to another documentary, nature or something, she wasn’t sure or really that bothered. She snuggled her cheek into Bernie's hair, feeling her breathing even and slow, wrapped her other arm over Bernie's around her. She sighed contentedly. After a couple of hours in the garden together, a hearty meal inside them, and the soft soothing sound of an unknown voiceover, she felt her own body beginning to relax and remember what it was like to hold Bernie when they had nowhere else to be.

 

Serena stroked Bernie's hair, rhythmically, slowly, inhaling a mixture of her own shampoo and Bernie's unique smell. It comforted Serena, slowed her own heart rate, and made her feel just a little bit sad. She'd missed this so much, and they'd wasted so much time this year all ready. ‘Well,’ she decided, ‘we shall have to make up for time lost.’ She smiled a little and squeezed Bernie carefully, closing her eyes and savouring the last few minutes of comfortable embrace before the documentary finished.

 

Bernie stirred at the bouncy music over the credits and lifted her messy head to blink her eyes open at the brunette who's arms she was snuggled so safely in. She sighed as Serena smiled at her, fingers teasing her hair, tender caresses against her ears. “Hey,” Bernie murmured, pushing up and leaning on one hip.

 

“Time for bed?” Serena asked, softly, a little shyly. Bernie nodded. They climbed off the sofa and went upstairs. Bernie hesitated at the bedroom door but Serena gripped her hand, slotted their fingers together, tugged a bit. “Come on. You're welcome in here.”

 

Bernie nodded again, biting her lip and allowing Serena to pull her inside. The window was ajar and a breeze blew the curtain slightly. Serena reached to pull them closed, throwing Bernie a happy look over her own shoulder. Bernie sat on the edge of the bed, she side she knew Serena didn't sleep on. “It's been a lovely day,” she admitted, fingers tugging at the fabric at the knee of the jogging bottoms she had borrowed.

 

“It has,” Serena said nodding. She rounded the bed and took her own pyjamas out from under her pillow. She swallowed, held them close to her chest.

 

“Oh,” Bernie said, standing. “Would you like me to …” She pointed out into the hall, stepping towards the door. “I can …”

 

“No. That's okay.” Serena gave her an affectionate look. “Your chivalry does not go unnoticed, however. Thank you.”

 

“I don't mind,” Bernie insisted. Serena smiled.

 

“I think I'd prefer to begin getting used to these …” She took a deep breath. “… these things that were so normal for us six months ago.” Bernie nodded.

 

“Right.”

 

“It seems very strange,” Serena admitted, looking down at the floor, “that we've seen each other in our all-together. Several times in fact. And now I feel …”

 

Bernie gave her a moment but when Serena did not continue, she said, “how do you feel?”

 

“Ha. Well.” Serena looked up, nerves making her facial muscles taught, her lip between her teeth. “Nervous I suppose.”

 

“I'm nervous too,” Bernie said, reassuringly.

 

“It's stupid, isn't it?” Serena said, laughing a bit. Bernie chuckled.

 

“A bit, yes,” she admitted.

 

“Sod it,” Serena said, moving around the bed to stand in front of Bernie, her chin lifted in a defiant manner. She took in a shaky breath and placed her pyjamas on the bed next to Bernie's hip. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and pulled the T-shirt over her own head. She placed a hand on her own shoulder, a little shyly. Bernie sat and watched, a small and open smile on her face. Serena looked to the side for a moment, then forced her eyes back to Bernie's and felt reassured by their shared gaze. Serena undid the top button of her jeans, pulled the zip down and pushed them down her legs, stepped out of them. She bundled her dirty clothes into a ball and went to the washing basket, dropped them in. Stood with her back to Bernie for a moment, gathering courage.

 

She turned around, burgundy bra and briefs, simple but matching. She shifted from one foot to the other. Bernie's gaze was gentle on her and Serena wished she would reach out but knew that she wouldn't. This was on Serena's terms, Serena got to choose what happened. So she smiled a little bit, stepped forward to stand in front of Bernie and took her hands, wrapping them around her own waist, then grasping the back of Bernie's head and guiding her to lean against her bare belly.

 

She felt Bernie's sigh against her skin and felt Bernie's arms squeeze her round her middle. Hands did not wander, fingers did not tease. Lips did not kiss her skin. Serena remembered an evening they had stood like this and Bernie had pressed her mouth against her through her underwear. She remembered it with fondness and wondered whether they'd ever do these things again. She hoped so.

 

“I'm so glad you're back,” she felt Bernie breathe against her navel. Serena chuckled a bit.

 

“Me too,” she replied, stroking Bernie's hair like she would a child, round her ear, back from by her temple.

 

“You're so beautiful,” Bernie whispered, smiling up at her.

 

“I …” Serena sighed sadly. “I've not been eating properly.”

 

“Yes you could do with a bit more meat on your bones,” Bernie mused. “I think we both could.”

 

“Least I had a bit extra to play with in the first place,” Serena commented, and that earned another chuckle from Bernie.

 

“You're perfect. You were perfect. I don't care. Happy and healthy is all I ask for.” Bernie leant back and Serena stroked her hair back, Bernie closed her eyes and smiled that cat-smile again. Then she ran her eyes down Serena’s torso, taking in the underwear and the curve of her hip properly.

 

“Mmm,” Serena sighed, patting Bernie's cheek. “Well, that's enough of gazing at me in my underwear.”

 

“You chose to give me a show,” Bernie said, eyes opening in defiance. She shrugged. “I was simply a passive participant.” The gaze between them softened.

 

“Do I get a turn?” Serena asked coyly, reaching behind herself to unhook her bra. She blushed visibly as she pulled it off and dropped it into the laundry basket, turned swiftly to pull on her pyjama shirt. Bernie gazed at her as she buttoned the shirt up.

 

“Oh. Of course. If you like.” Bernie smiled. “You did get a bit of one earlier though, didn't you?”

 

“Hmm yes.” Serena lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I wasn't really paying attention.”

 

“That's … um … a shame.”

 

“Have to remind me.”

 

Bernie stood and frowned a moment. “Do you still have those … tartan things I left here?”

 

Serena smiled, pulling her pyjama bottoms up and tying the string at the waist. “Oh God, yes I do.” She hopped in her socks to her drawers and pulled one open, collecting the aforementioned tartan pyjamas and holding them out.

 

“Thanks.” Serena sat on the bed, hands clasped and gaze adorably expectant. Bernie chuckled, nodding and relenting. “Right.”

 

Pulling off the T-shirt, then putting her hands on her hips in a pose, she heard Serena snort and opened her mouth in disbelief. Bernie folded her arms. “Oh no don't,” Serena moaned, pouting a bit. “I'm sorry.”

 

Bernie winked at her and undid the drawstring on the jogging bottoms, pushing them down. She pulled her black underwear off quickly, standing naked and suddenly nervous in front of Serena. Serena's gaze calmed and Bernie heard her sigh a bit. “Yep, still beautiful,” she heard Serena breathe. Bernie pulled the pyjamas on without pause and collected her underwear, and Serena's clothes, put them all on the chair by Serena's dressing table. Stifling a yawn, Bernie pointed into the en suite. “I brought your toothbrush with me,” Serena said gently. Bernie nodded and went in.

 

When she had finished and came out Serena went in after her. Bernie sat in Serena's bed under the covers, waited for her. She lay down after a few minutes, turned onto her side and plumped the pillow under her head. One hand strayed under the pillow, the other curled up by her own ribs. She turned her face into the pillow, breathed in the scent that was becoming familiar again.

 

Serena stepped out of the bathroom and climbed into bed. She lay down in her squishy pillows and faced Bernie, eyes twinkling. She pulled the duvet up around her shoulders. She moved her fingers towards Bernie’s under the pillow and put her palm against Bernie’s palm, poking her fingertips between Bernie’s knuckles. Bernie stayed on her pillow, reached with her free hand to run the back of her knuckles against Serena’s cheek briefly. Serena closed her eyes on a smile. “Thank you,” Serena sighed.

 

“What for?” Bernie whispered.

 

“For waiting for me while I got my act together. For not hating me when I didn’t have a handle on things. For being so fantastic, generally.”

 

“Completely worth it,” Bernie said, sincerely. Serena moved forward and kissed her softly, hand at her jaw. Bernie kissed her back, making sure the kiss stayed gentle and just shy of passionate. When they broke apart, they were both smiling.

 

“You do look after me,” Serena said, her hand leaving Bernie’s to rest against her waist under the covers. She smoothed back and forth a bit, trying to express her affection for the blonde through touch. Bernie shifted a bit closer, question in her eyes. Serena smiled wider and shifted forward, sneaking a foot between Bernie’s calves, sliding her arm around Bernie’s waist properly, her other hand between the pillow and Bernie’s neck. Serena sighed out a content noise. “That’s better,” she breathed, her nose next to Bernie’s, heads on the same pillow. Bernie gathered her close, palm against Serena’s hip, fingers of the other hand brushing Serena’s forearm.

 

“Hope you sleep well.”

 

“Got my lavender pillow,” Serena said, teasing a little. When Bernie frowned and looked around, unable to find the pillow she’d given her, Serena pressed her lips to Bernie’s carefully in a small kiss, then leant back and said, “you’re my lavender pillow.”

 

“Ah,” Bernie said, nodding a bit. “A metaphor.”

 

“Yep. Don’t need real lavender when I have you in my bed.”

 

“Can you grow lavender?” Bernie asked quietly, sleepily, eyes shuttered a bit.

 

“Course.”

 

“Hmm.” Bernie smiled, closed her eyes in contentment. “Maybe I’ll buy you one.”

 

“That sounds nice,” Serena whispered, thumb sweeping Bernie’s cheekbone and causing her to smile that wide cat-smile again. Serena reckoned her life’s work was going to be to make Bernie smile like that from now on, forever.

 

And so, for the first time in six months (give or take), they settled down to sleep in Serena’s bed together, smiles on both their faces, legs tangled under the covers. And they slept soundly and together and happily, with no need for lavender of temazepam or alcohol.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*


	6. Don't Give Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie is disappointed by a setback in her onion adventure. They repot the tomatoes and peppers, check on their cuttings and sow some salad. And Jason organises a non-date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually had to check my facts when it came to this chapter. Thank God for the RHS Grow Your Own app!

*~*~*~*~*~*

May 19th

 

Bernie had always been a cat person, even from being a small girl. She’d brought home a kitten once to her parents and they had let her keep it for a whole week before they found a more suitable home for it. And she and Marcus had a cat when they had first been married. She liked the feeling of an evening curled up with a book and a cat on her lap, its purring the only background music she needed.

 

Serena was a dog person, Bernie discovered. She liked loyal beings, which Bernie hoped she was. She liked attentiveness and a willingness to please. Serena had told her once that she’d had a dog when she was little, and that the dog had been old, and she had been unconsolable when it had, inevitably, passed on to the great farm in the sky. It was her first experience of death.

 

So, when they stood together in front of the vegetable patch one morning to discover the perfectly placed onion sets had been dug up, every single one, by next door’s cat, Bernie didn’t know how to feel. The brown gift the cat had presented them with also left her confused. Serena was swearing and, as endearing as this was, it didn’t put the usual smile on Bernie’s face. Bernie had spent a good fifteen minutes, in the rain no less, planting the baby onions, only for the one animal she relied on to be kind and generous to destroy the whole lot of them.

 

Serena rubbed her back, giving her a sympathetic look. The sun shone down on them starkly hot and Bernie sighed sadly. Without a word, she took her trowel from the greenhouse (one that Serena had bought her, of her very own) and set about replanting them, one by one.

 

Watching her tenderly, Serena folded her arms and grimaced. Bloody cat. How dare it come and ruin Bernie’s day. Bernie was sweet and kind and gentle and did not deserve this. She looked up over the fence and wondered how much cat murder she could get away with before she was forced to take another sabbatical for her questionable mental health.

 

When Bernie stood again, Serena gave her a cuddle and kissed her forehead. “It happens,” she cooed brightly. “I once lost an entire crop of broccoli to caterpillas.”

 

“I don’t like catapillas,” Bernie said, frowning dejectedly. “I like cats.” Serena nodded, took her hand, and led her into the greenhouse.

 

“Why don’t we repot our peppers?” Serena suggested, trying to jolly Bernie up. Bernie sighed and looked at Serena and found that she couldn’t help smiling.

 

“Sure. Okay.”

 

“Okay. So, because they have two sets of true leaves, and this goes for both tomatoes and peppers, we can take them out of their little community growing space and let them try and make it on their own. They’re big enough now.” Serena stopped talking for a moment, realised she was speaking about the seedlings like they were her children. She swallowed. She thought of Elinor. She felt Bernie’s hand on her arm.

 

“Alright?” Bernie murmured. Serena nodded.

 

“Just thinking, being silly,” Serena admitted. She literally shook herself and smiled fondly at the seedlings. “They can be given a bit more food as well, so we shall use some compost from the growbags I bought on Monday. They’re higher in nutrients than seed compost.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Could you choose some five inch pots for me?” Bernie nodded and bent to reach under the shelves on the left of the greenhouse to retrieve a handful of pots. “I think we’ll risk it and put two peppers in each.”

 

Bernie separated the pots, they were stuck a little inside one another, and placed them in a line on the work area. Serena lifted a growbag onto it’s short end, cut off the top and shook it hard, causing the contents to settle more into the bottom of the bag. She took a scoop and started filling the pots. She watched proudly as Bernie tapped each pot and pressed the compost down a little with her knuckles, tapping again. “Good job, Major.” Bernie gave her a wink. When all the pots were filled, Serena took an old spoon and carefully levered each seedling out, lay it on the bench in front of them. They had six Sungold tomato seedlings, seven chilli peppers and nine sweet peppers. She discarded the rest. “We don’t need that many, and they’re tiny, probably not worth the hassle.”

 

“Fair enough,” Bernie said. Serena grabbed the dibber and Bernie smirked at the sight of it.

 

“Must we compare my dibber to a sex toy, Bernie, at every opportunity?”

 

“I didn’t say anything,” Bernie exclaimed, grinning. Serena eyed her affectionately, handed her the dibber and pointed.

 

“Go on then. Show me what you’re made of.” Bernie concentrated hard, pushing the tool into each pot, and took a seedling, carefully lowering it into the hole created. “Make sure you hold them by a leaf, rather than the stalk,” Serena explained gently. “If you break a leaf it doesn’t matter so much.”

 

“Right.”

 

All six of the tomato plants made it into individual five inch pots without any casulaties. Bernie pressed the compost around them snugly, making sure each one stood up straight. The peppers faired a little less well, one of the chilli’s breaking in half despite Bernie’s desperation to hold them only by a leaf, and two of the sweet peppers being squished between nervous fingers. She huffed a bit and Serena put a hand over hers. “Don’t worry. We have plenty.”

 

Pots all full of small plants, and labelled in Serena’s careful handwriting, Bernie organised them on the bench, so that they all got the same amount of sun. She watered them lovingly, peering closely into each pot in turn. Serena leant against Bernie’s side, arm around her back. Bernie grinned, kissing her hair. “So, do they grow baby tomatoes soon?” she asked, excitement tinging her words.

 

“Hmm not just yet,” Serena explained, rubbing her back. “In a few weeks we’ll have to repot them again. I have some large ones in the shed. And the tomatoes will need canes to grow up.”

 

“Ah. Architecture,” Bernie said.

 

Serena nodded. “I think it’s practically salad season, don’t you?” she asked, cheerfully. “Fancy sowing some spinach?”

 

“Am I not macho enough for you?” Bernie asked, resisting the impulse to flex her biceps. “You want me to go all Popeye on you?” Serena laughed, loudly, eyes shining at Bernie.

 

“Oh no, Darling, I think you’re just perfect as you are. But spinach is one of your five-a-day and is a complete doddle to grow, so we might as well take advantage, hmm? As I have all this time on my hands.”

 

“I do like spinach, actually,” Bernie said, thoughtfully, taking the packet of seeds that Serena handed her and reading the instructions.

 

“Right then,” Serena said, holding out a hand and bowing a little. “See one, do one, teach one.”

 

“I’m in charge on this one?” Bernie asked, eyes a bit wide and worried.

 

“I’ll assist. Like I said, they’re easy. And you’re ready, I have no doubt.”

 

“Right,” Bernie said very seriously, eyebrows pushed down in consideration. “Let’s use one of the trays we’ve just taken the tomatoes out of.” She looked up at Serena for confirmation. “Seed compost?” Serena smiled in encouragement, and Bernie got everything ready, tipped some compost into the tray and smoothed it out with her palm. She re-read the instructions on the back of the packet. “Oh. Got to be pre-watered.” She took the watering can and soaked the compost, allowing the water to run out of the drainage holes. Then she took her finger and made inch-deep holes along the compost, in two little rows. Serena smiled fondly and kept quiet, wanting Bernie to do this by herself.

 

Bernie tore open the seed packet and shook the large round seeds into her hand. She stared at them in interest and then shrugged, placing a seed in each hole she had made. “Says we have to thin them to three inches apart when they’re large enough to handle.”

 

“Okay. I’ll let you do that when the time comes.”

 

“And they can be harvested when they’re large enough to pick.” Bernie covered over each of the seeds with a gentle fingertip and nodded in satisfaction. She moved the tray next to their repotted peppers and tomatoes. “Right. What’s next?” Serena opened the window in the ceiling, letting some of the heat out.

 

“Shall we check the rosemary cuttings? See which have formed good roots?” Bernie nodded eagerly.

 

“I can’t remember who bet on which?” Serena chuckled.

 

“I’m sure it doesn’t matter.” Serena pulled a pot over where the cuttings had been dipped in rooting powder, and one where they hadn’t. “So we give them a little tug to see if there’s any resistance.” Bernie nodded and reached to carefully tug the cuttings in the pot marked ‘with RP’.

 

“Some resistance,” she stated. She tried the one marked ‘without RP’. “Hmm. Equal resistance.” She looked at Sernea for a moment, then reached for the remaining pots and gently tugged each cutting, much to Serena quiet amusement. “I’m not sure it’s made a difference,” she mused, pulling on one or two for a second time, just to be sure. “I can’t tell.”

 

“Interesting,” Serena replied. “Perhaps I won’t waste my money in the future.”

 

“Maybe there are certain types of cuttings that do better with rooting powder,” Bernie mused, lips pouting in thought. Serena just grinned at her with affection. Bernie caught her gaze after a moment and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

 

“You’re just … really getting into this gardening milarky,” Serena explained.

 

“Well, it’s a big part of your life. Why wouldn’t I want to be part of that?”

 

“Your brain is beginning to work like a gardener’s brain,” Serena observed, hand on Bernie’s arm.

 

“Is it?” Bernie asked, amused. Serena nodded. “Good,” she said, assertively, nodding. She squared her shoulders. “I have got a fantastic teacher, you know.”

 

Jason knocked on the door to the greenhouse then and they both looked up. Serena beckoned him in. He shook his head. “I don’t like the environment,” he explained, his voice muffled through the glass. Serena reached and slid open the door and they stepped out into the cooler breeze.

 

“You’re doing a brilliant job with the grass, Jason,” Bernie praised, sincerely. “I’ve never seen a neater lawn.” Jason smiled widely.

 

“I check the grass everyday. And I feed it every Sunday. And I mow it when the blades are longer than two inches, although I do object to using imperial measurements.” He looked accusingly at his aunt.

 

“My master of the lawn,” Serena said, rubbing his arm. “Anyway, did you want something?” Jason nodded.

 

“Can Celia come round tomorrow? I wanted to make her a picnic, and, as it’s toasted sandwich night tomorrow, a picnic would be appropriate. Sandwiches are classed as a picnic food.”

 

“Of course she can,” Serena replied.

 

“I do object to sitting on the floor,” Jason mused, thoughtfully. “However, Celia really wants to and I feel it would ruin her experience if I brought a chair onto the lawn. So I will compromise and lay a blanket down, and sit on a cushion.”

 

“Good plan,” Bernie said.

 

“Would you like me to join you, or leave you to your date?” Serena asked.

 

“It’s not a date. Just two people eating together.” Bernie smiled a bit shyly at him.

 

“Does she know that, Jason?” Bernie asked, a little concerned.

 

“Oh yes. We’ve discussed it at length.” Jason walked up to the conservatory, Serena and Bernie close behind him. “We’ve decided that we’re going to be friends for a year first, before we start dating.” He grinned at his aunt. “That means we have one-hundred and six days laeft to be friends.”

 

“What’s made you do that?” Serena asked.

 

“You waited, Auntie Serena.”

 

“Well yes,” Serean agreed, blushing a bit. Bernie slipped her hand into Serena’s and squeezed, clearly entertained by the conversation.

 

“I think it’s a great idea,” Bernie told him and he smiled at her, nodding.

 

“It is a great idea.” His words were confident and with that, he walked back inside. Serena and Bernie grinned at one another.

 

“Looks like we’re relationship rolemodels,” Serena teased. Bernie pulled at her hand and their lips met under the summer sunshine, smiles glinting.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*


	7. Mercy Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our ladies go on a midnight hunt...

May 26th

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Something is eating the potato leaves,” Serena said, inspecting the chewed plants that had just started emerging from her vegetable patch. Bernie stepped up behind her and peered at the same cluster of leaves.

 

“Is it the cat again?”

 

“I’m not sure cats have a taste for leaves of any sort.”

 

“Catnip?” Bernie suggested. Serne chuckled.

 

“Well, apart from catnip.” Serena cupped her elbow, rested her knuckles against her chin. “Hmm. See those little silver trails?” Bernie peered closer.

 

“Fairies?” she asked, hopefully.

 

“Little snaily buggers,” Serena replied, unhappily.

 

“Damn. Well, where are they?” Bernie asked, looking around.

 

“Hiding,” Serena murmured, narrowing her eyes. “They’re not keen on the sun. They’ll come out at night.”

 

“Sounds like a midnight snail-collecting party is in order,” Bernie suggested, eyebrows raised hopefully.

 

“Well, as you’re staying over tonight,” Serena flirted.

 

They’d eased carefully into the flirtatious banter again and for this Bernie was overwhelmingly glad. More so that she had expected. They’d spent the last couple of days off sitting in deckchairs on the lawn and making new deckchair memories that didn’t involve smoking or shiraz or the fear that one of them was going to jump off a roof. Bernie had the most delightful pair of knee-length shorts in a soft burgundy that Serena had a particular taste for, and when placed together with a pair of flipflops, well, she was a sight to behold. Top the whole outfit off with a low-cut vest top and a ridiculously large hat and Serena found herself smitten all over again.

 

Serena had started to allow her brain to wander in this way. She’d started using more amourous words, at least to herself - ‘sexy’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘hot’ – all the half-familiar words she used to use to describe the lovely army medic that she was now allowed to see naked. It no longer made her heart hurt and her belly clench in guilt at this feeling of happiness. In fact, it made other areas of her body throb a little, to think of Bernie like that.

 

Bernie went inside to reapply suntan lotion and Serena sat in her deckchair, taking in the flowers in her border. When Bernie returned, she brought with her two iced lemonades, their continued favourite drink. She’d adorned them both with little umbrellas and Serena giggled a bit at the florish with which Bernie set them down on the little fold-up table they had between them.

 

“That echinacea really does attract the butterflies,” Bernie commented as she sat in her deckchair, crossing her legs comfortably and resting back. Serena pushed her sunglasses above her eyes to consider Bernie with amusement. She turned to watch the dappled butterflies dipping in and out of the large cone flowers, enjoying themselves in the nectar. She chose to refrain from commenting on Bernie’s increased ability to identify the plants in her garden.

 

“You’re right,” she said, letting her glasses fall back onto her nose and taking a sip of her drink. “This is delicious,” she said, holding up the glass in a mini salute.

 

“Cloudy lemonade,” Bernie explained. “Much nicer.”

 

“You can have a beer, you know. If you like.” Serena smiled at her. “I don’t mind.”

 

“Doesn’t seem fair,” Bernie complained, biting her lip. “If you can’t drink…” She shrugged.

 

“It's not that I can't. I'm choosing not to.”

 

“But there's a reason, and a good one too.”

 

“I bought you some beer, they’re in the fridge.”

 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bernie said.

 

“I know. I wanted to. You work hard in my garden. You should be able to have a beer if you want one.”

 

Bernie considered the brunette in the huge sunglasses at her side. Serena smiled kindly at her. “Maybe a bit later,” Bernie said, nodding. The water feature bubbled away behind them and they watched the tiny apples on the tree sway in the breeze.

 

They sunned themselves a little longer, before finishing their drinks and folding the chairs and table to replace back in the shed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It wouldn't get dark until ten. Serena rented a film and they watched that together, Jason already in bed as he had work in the morning. Bernie sipped at a cool beer straight from the bottle, and Serena continued with the cloudy lemonade. The movie was a comedy and they both giggled a bit at the funny bits, eyes sparkling with mirth. After a few beers, Serena noticed Bernie was giggling a lot more than she would if she was only drinking lemonade, hands clutching at her as she laughed. Serena let her hands grip at Bernie too, sharing in the jokes, until tears were in both of their eyes.

Their eyes locked slowly, and Bernie went still for a moment, her breathing a little deep. Bernie swallowed, her lips parted and her gaze dropped to Serena’s lips.

Serena inhaled deeply as their lips crushed together, Bernie’s hands coming up to cup her cheek and her neck, tongue seeking entry into her mouth and she granted it, hungrily. She could taste the beer on Bernie’s tongue and found her hands beginning to wander as Bernie pushed her against the back of the sofa, leaning on one hip.

Serena felt the unfamiliar ache begin between her legs and tickled her fingertips up and down Bernie's sides as their lips met again and again. She felt a moan bubble up and out of her throat. She regretted it instantly as Bernie stilled and pulled away. Serena made a noise of discontent and tried to pull her back. “I'm sorry,” Bernie said breathily, shaking her head a bit and lowering her eyes. Serena pushed her eyebrows down in confusion.

 

“Why?” was all she could ask.

 

“Um,” Bernie said, eyeing her beer with distaste. “Shouldn't have drunk so much.” Bernie's hand against her neck was tender. “Was trying to wait a little longer.”

 

“What for?” Serena asked.

 

“To … to give you time. To ease into …” Bernie looked at her and shrugged shyly, hiding behind her fringe. “Didn’t mean to get carried away.”

 

“I think I'm ready,” Serena said, hands gentle on Bernie's waist. “To get a little carried away.” Their gazes locked and Serena smiled softly, affectionately. “Maybe not … you know. Quite as far as we … but I've been thinking recently. When I feel …” She swallowed, pressed on, felt brave enough to use the words. “When you turn me on … it's not a terrible thing anymore. I don't feel … guilty or sad for feeling good I …” Serena stopped and nodded once. “I'm getting used to being happy again, I suppose.”

 

“Are you sure? That you're okay with it?” Bernie asked. Serena nodded, hands sliding up to filter into Bernie's hair.

 

“I know you've missed me,” she whispered, fingers tangling and caressing and pulling Bernie back down.

 

“I have,” Bernie admitted, their lips an inch apart. They kissed again a little more softly, heat still flickering between them, but the comfortable knowledge that it was actually all okay again between them, even if they were still going to hold back perhaps a little bit, it relaxed them both somewhat. Serena moved her hands down and tugged at Bernie's hips.

 

“Come here?” she requested gently, and smiled up at Bernie as Bernie sat astride her on the sofa.

 

“You tell me?” Bernie whispered, thumb caressing Serena's neck. “If it's too much?”

 

“I will,” Serena breathed, pulling her close and relishing in having Bernie wrapped around her. Those strong thighs around her hips, perfect backside against her knees, hands caressing and tickling at her neck. The ache between her legs grew a little. She inhaled shakily and pulled Bernie's head to hers and they kissed once more. She let out a tiny whimper and this time, although Bernie pulled back for a moment to check all was okay, she captured Serena's lips in hers again immediately.

 

‘I remember this,’ some part of Serena's brain told her. ‘This isn't just kissing. This is being together and knowing what makes one another feel good. This is what life is all about.’

 

Hands were gentle and reasonably chaste, although Serena had to catch one of Bernie's hands as it slipped forward to her breast and cupped with passion through her bra. She was grinning when she pulled out of the kiss and Bernie grinned back, forehead against the back of the sofa in good-humoured embarrassment. “As much as my body wants to take you right here on the sofa,” Serena laughed. “I think I just need a bit more time.”

 

“Sorry,” Bernie chuckled. Their fingers scissored together and Bernie watched their joined hands with an affectionate look in her eyes. When she caught Serena's gaze again, she nodded. “Just … keep me informed.”

 

“Oh I will,” Serena replied, her smile shy. “You'll be the first to know.”

 

“Good.” Bernie turned to look out of the bay window, noted the darkness outside. Serena followed her gaze.

 

“How does a little snail catching sound?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. Bernie laughed her honking laugh and it made Serena laugh too, infectiously, childishly. Bernie stood and tugged at her hand.

 

“Sexy as hell,” Bernie replied once she'd calmed down enough to speak. Serena climbed from the sofa and stood in front of Bernie.

 

“Ah. Yes. Well, don't say I never plan anything romantic.” They were standing very close together, hands linked tightly, noses brushing. Serena's could feel Bernie's breath on her face. There seemed to be some kind of magnetic field between them as they jolted together again, lips pressing firmly and a free hand from each gripping the other. It was Bernie who moaned this time, but they kept a handle on things, although when they broke for air they were both a little breathless. The giggling started again and Serena pulled at Bernie's hand until she was leading her through to the conservatory and into the dark garden.

 

Serena had bought some small cracked-glass solar lights, very stylish Bernie thought, to place seemingly-haphazardly throughout the garden, although Bernie knew their locations had been planned meticulously. They glowed softly white and lit small areas in the darkness. Jason had surprised his aunt one evening by hanging fairy lights from the apple tree, also solar powered, and then leading her down the path and pointing with a huge grin on his face. The idea of fairy lights had made her grimace, however the actual effect was rather pleasant, Serena had to admit. And Bernie, thankfully, was in agreement.

 

Serena unlocked the shed and retrieved two buckets, the type a child would take onto the beach. Bernie squinted a bit at her, watching in a slightly wobbly state (due to the beer) for any sign that she felt upset. “They were Elinor’s,” Serena reassured her. “And it's okay. She hasn't used them for years.” She wiggled one of them and chuckled. “Obviously.”

 

Bernie nodded and took one of the buckets from her. “Perfect snail receptacles,” she said, kindly. Serena gave her an appreciative look. “So, what's the plan?” Bernie asked, stumbling a little to one side as she stepped from the grass to the gravel path. “Whoops.”

 

“Steady,” Serena chuckled, gripping her shoulder. “Honestly, last time I buy beer for you in bulk.”

 

“I'm fine, I'm fine.” Serena snorted as Bernie righted herself and held both hands out, the plastic bucket swinging joyously. “I only had three.”

 

“You had five. I counted.”

 

Bernie shot her an amused look. “It's more difficult in the dark.”

 

“Yes dear.” Serena raised an eyebrow at Bernie before stepping round her and stooping down to start inspecting under the happily growing leaves of the potato plants. “Look for snails and slugs, catch them, put them in a bucket … dispose of said creatures. That's the plan.” Bernie squatted down next to her and watched as Serena pushed each plant back carefully with a flat hand. Serena peered underneath and let out a triumphant, “aha!” She pulled two snails by their shells from the cool compost under the plant and plopped them into her bucket.

 

“Snaily bastards,” Bernie slurred slightly, copying Serena and pushing back the plants as well, finding a few snails herself and thunking them into her own bucket.

 

They worked methodically, from their positions next to one another in the middle of the row, shifting away from each other and along. After a few minutes, Serena held up her bucket and said: “I refused to buy Ellie anything pink when she was little.”

 

“Really?” Bernie asked, pushing her own fringe back with her forearm and rubbing the slime between her fingers in a disgusted way.

 

“Didn't want to force her into a gender stereotype.”

 

“I didn't have much of a choice with mine,” Bernie admitted. “I was away on tour, Marcus bought the kids most of their things.” She screwed up her nose. “Pink for Charlotte, blue for Cameron.”

 

“Not very progressive,” Serena commented, holding up a particularly huge snail and tossing it an inch or so into the air, before catching it in her bucket.

 

“No. He wanted our little girl to be girly. Not like mum at all.”

 

“I think you're girly,” Serena said, her voice a bit childlike and fond. Bernie eyed her.

 

“Really?” she asked, looking over at her with a disbelieving look.

 

“Sometimes.” Serena shrugged. “I suppose it depends what you mean by ‘girly’, doesn't it?”

 

“Hmm,” Bernie replied, getting to the end of the row and straightening up. She felt her back twinge a bit, but not enough to react to. She rolled out her shoulders a bit. “I suppose it does.”

 

“Different social norms. One thing might seem feminine to one person, and different to … you know.”

 

“Interesting debate. Perhaps one for when I haven't got three beers inside me.”

 

“Five.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

“That's why the buckets are green and yellow,” Serena explained, standing as well and holding out her bucket, which was around a third full of slugs and snails.

 

“They're lovely,” Bernie said, lopsided grin on her face. Serena chuckled.

 

“Come on, let’s scour the flowerbedd as well. Would be a shame to lose anything else to the slimy buggers.”

 

They repeated their manouvre, starting at each end this time, meeting in the middle. Their shoulders rested against one another.  They reached for the same snail, hands brushing, then shared a smile. “You have it,” Serena said.

 

“You're the snail queen,” Bernie argued, holding her hand up. “You have it.”

 

“Are we in a competition?” Serena asked, amusedly, grabbing the snail.

 

“Not a close one. You're winning by a mile.” Bernie peered into Serena's bucket.

 

“What prize do I get?” Bernie narrowed her eyes in secretive thought.

 

“I'll decide later.”

 

Serena's smile was toothy and glinted in the glow from the solar lights. Bernie thought she looked very beautiful indeed right then and hesitated only a moment before expressing the fact. Serena chuckled a little breathily, coyly, before standing and taking her bucket to the bottom of the garden.

 

“Won't they come back?” Bernie asked. “I'm sure I read somewhere they they're like homing pigeons.”

 

“Yes I suppose they are a bit,” Serena said, sighing. “Was just going to chuck them into the lane.”

 

“Don’t birds eat them?” Bernie asked, looking towards the bird table, a wooden construction Serena had bought during late spring, with a little roof and sturdy legs. The flat table part of it had a rim around it, to stop the food falling off and onto the floor.

 

“Good thinking, Batman,” Serena said, pleased.

 

“Batman? I though I was supposed to be girly?”

 

“Aren't capes girly?”

 

“Maybe leopard print ones.” Serena grinned.

 

“Anyway. If we pop them all upside down the birds will wake up to one hell of a feast.”

 

“Can we get up early and watch them?”

 

“Of course we can. So long as you're up to it,” Serena finished teasingly.

 

“Are you saying I can't hold my drink?”

 

Serena smiled but did not comment. They started lining the snails up on the bird table, each reaching inside in turn to place them fleshy-bit-up against the wood. Faces close together, Serena watched Bernie's face, alight with excitement. Like she had been at Christmas when she's caught Bernie placing a present each for Serena and the children under the tree, trying to be quiet so no one would know. Serena had watched her from the doorway in her old living room.

 

Now, Serena watched her with affection and felt glad at the memory. Even though Elinor had been a pain in the proverbial backside the entire Christmas, she had at least expressed thanks for Bernie's gift – a pretty beaded bracelet Bernie had chosen, in pale blue.

 

Once there was no more space, and thankfully no more snails or slugs to line up, then stepped back and Bernie rubbed her hands. Serena pursed her lips around a smile. “Nail brush will get the slime off,” she said and Bernie nodded.

 

“You go in,” she said, handing the bucket to Serena. “I just want to check the greenhouse.” She blinked. “Oh. If that's okay.”

 

“Of course it is. It's your greenhouse too,” Serena said without thinking. She opened her mouth for a moment, then smiled. “Well you've worked just as hard. To be perfectly honest, I've been considering the entire garden shared property for a while.”

 

“I do feel at home when I'm out here,” Bernie admitted. She nodded. “It's been nice to be a part of something with you.”

 

“Good.” There was a pause where they simply looked into one another's eyes, but didn't step closer, stayed at arm’s length. “I do love you,” Serena breathed in the end, her words packed with emotion. Bernie nodded slowly.

 

“I love you too. Very much.” They gazed a moment more, before Bernie let out a happy breath, turned, pointed away from the house. “I'll just be a minute.”

 

Serena nodded. “Sure. Don't be too long.”

 

“Get ready for bed if you like. I'll be up soon.”

 

Bernie pulled the greenhouse door across and watched Serena walk into the house, saw her turn to smile at Bernie over her shoulder. Bernie smiled at her retreating back, then turned to her seedlings. It was dark, so she took out her phone and turned the torch facility on, checked each plant in turn, plucked a couple of striped slugs off the sides of pots, threw them on the floor and stepped on them.

 

Her hands were slime-covered when she re-entered Serena's house and she scrubbed at them in the kitchen with the nail brush Serena had recommended.

 

She climbed the stairs and carefully pushed open the door to Serena's bedroom. She stopped when she heard Jason call out his wish that they slept well. Bernie responded in kind, wondering whether he had stayed up until they were both upstairs. He really could be taking his roll as ‘man of the house’ quite seriously, along with his jobs as ‘master of the lawn’ and ‘professional bolognaise taster’ (a new responsibility given to him by Bernie after her last rather fruitful attempt to cook Serena dinner).

 

Bernie stepped into the bedroom and closed the door gently behind her. Serena was in bed already. They smiled at one another. Bernie went into the en suite and When she was finished, Serena had lay down on her side, and was looking sleepily at her. “Been a long day,” Bernie commented, reaching to turn off the bedside lamp.

 

“Not particularly,” Serena replied, snuggling up to Bernie's shoulder as she slid into bed and lay on her back. Bernie held her waist and kissed her forehead. “Just a late night.”

 

“Yeah. Nice night though.” Bernie's smile was obvious even in the dark.

 

“Very nice.” They kissed gently, tenderly, Serena snuggled the tip of her nose against Bernie's. Bernie's face crumpled a bit in memory. Serena shook her head, did the nose-snuggle again, kissed Bernie's cheek, her jaw. “New memories,” Serena insisted.

 

“Okay,” Bernie agreed.

 

“Fancy being my little spoon?” Serena asked quietly.

 

“Course,” Bernie replied turning away from her and backing up a bit. Serena slipped an arm around Bernie's waist from behind, and Bernie caught her hand loosely, their fingers intertwining. She wiggled her backside back against Serena's hips and Serena chuckled.

 

“Alright, Tiger.”

 

“Sorry,” Bernie whispered, but she didn't sound it.

 

“Hope you sleep very well.”

 

“After our moonlit adventures this evening, how could I not?” Bernie asked, her free hand gesturing flippantly in the air, before tucking around Serena's arm around her. Serena hummed low in her throat, a noise of adoration from the woman in her arms. She snuggled up against her back, knees behind Bernie's, nose in her wild blonde hair that she really should have brushed before coming to bed. It was warm right here.

 

She felt the calm ache between her thighs and found she didn't mind it, or that they weren't going to do anything about it. It wasn't painful exactly, just a heat and a weight in a place she had started to grow accustomed to feeling. She wiggled her own hips against Bernie's bottom and smiled at the murmur of affection it caused from the messy-haired blonde.

 

They slept very well, with the knowledge that their plants were safe, and the birds would wake up to the biggest breakfast Hotel Campbell had ever provided for them.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*


	8. I Have The Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Jason create bamboo cane structures. Our ladies repot the tomatoes and peppers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is definitely M rated. 
> 
> (You're welcome.)

 

June 2nd  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
Serena wasn't allowed to watch. That's what they had insisted. So she sat in the lounge and flicked through random television: music channels, home improvement programmes, talk shows. She sipped at a strong (and hot) coffee, sucked biscuit crumbs from her fingers. She blamed the biscuits mostly for the re-emerging of some of her curves, which, to be fair, Bernie had been gently complimentary about.

Serena knew Bernie had worried when she'd come back from her three weeks away an entire stone lighter. It was very sweet how the blonde, her blonde lovely partner, how she had worried so much.  
Serena couldn't help it, but kept glancing towards the kitchen, to the large window that looked out over the garden. Bernie and Jason were in the garden, constructing a bamboo cane creation for their tomatoes.

  
She knew Jason would refuse to enter the hot greenhouse, so their building efforts might be a little difficult to coordinate. Serena's tummy felt warm at the thought of them working together on their project. They had both been researching specific structures during the last few days. There was a diagram, to scale of course, labelled and with measurements. Bernie had brought a coping saw to cut, and some string to bind the canes together, and they had been stood, heads together, for much of the morning, discussing their options. They kept looking up and shushing each other when she entered the room. Like they had some terribly exciting secret. Serena had smiled and made herself busy with housework and had left them to it. She'd then been banned from the garden as the manufacturing had commenced.

  
The lounge door opened and a grinning Bernie stepped inside. Serena smiled back from the sofa, picking up her coffee and giving her a questioning look. “All done?” she asked and Bernie nodded. “Can I see?” Bernie nodded again, hands clasped in front of her, like a school girl who'd won an award. Serena stood and waited excitedly until Bernie turned to lead her out into the garden.

  
Jason stood by the greenhouse, arms out, displaying their handywork.

Four of Serena's large terracotta pots stood along the path by the greenhouse, each one with a perfectly straight and stable-looking cage planted in the top. The pots were half-full of compost, ready to be moved and then filled properly when inside the greenhouse. The constructed cages were exactly oblong, around five foot tall, and with perfectly attached horizontal canes, all perfectly the same length, the horizontal canes making perfect squares all the way up the vertical ones.

They looked like they had been made in a shop, by a professional carpenter, out of cut wood, not simply a load of old canes Serena had clustered up from her old house and dumped beside her greenhouse when she'd moved in. She was very impressed.

Serena's smile was broad as she walked around the four towers, inspecting their joins with gentle fingertips, wobbling them a little in their pots, peering inside each with interest. “They're beautiful,” she said after a few minutes of considering them, and Jason clapped his hands once, then balled his fists and shook them in happiness. “What a good job you've done.”

  
“Mostly Jason's idea,” Bernie explained a bit breathlessly, pleased and relieved. “I just did all the hard work.” She winked at Jason, and he understood what that meant.

  
“I don't like physical labour,” Jason told Serena. “But I can design things to specification. And I can measure and mark out lengths of canes.” He pointed. “We made each horizontal cane so that each tomato branch would rest on it.”

  
“How clever,” Serena replied.  
“You're a very good second-in-command,” Bernie told him, her eyes shining with kindness. Serena smiled back and forth between them.

  
“What a team,” she said affectionately, mostly to Bernie, who lowered her face in a blush. Her fringe hung over her eyes and she rubbed at her reddened fingers. Serena gave her a moment, noting her sore hands, and instead focussed on her nephew. “Our tomatoes will be very happy. Thank you for all your work, Jason.”

  
She rubbed his arm and he opened both of them to envelope her in a hug. She patted his back warmly and he grinned over her shoulder. “You should say thank you to Bernie too,” he said.

  
“Oh, don't worry,” Serena said, pulling back and smiling at the coy blonde. “I fully intent to.”

  
“I'm detecting a desire for the both of you to be alone,” Jason said, smiling between them. “I think I'm getting good at that, but I do need confirmation.”

  
“You're right,” Serena said, in an effort to put things plainly. He nodded and he and Bernie did a silly little fist-bump, their way of sharing affection without the complicated act of a hug. Jason wasn't quite close enough to Bernie to be comfortable with a hug and, if Bernie was honest, neither was she.

  
He left them with a wave. Serena watched Bernie as she watched him go, and inhaled deeply at the squinting look of affection on Bernie's face. Serena folded her arms. “I must admit,” she said, eyebrows pushing down in consideration. “You do appear to be lacking the ability to count accurately.”

  
“Hmm?”

  
“Four. Do we not have six tomato plants?”

  
“Ah. Yes.” Bernie looked guilty. “About that.” Bernie chewed her lip and caught Serena's hand, guiding her into the greenhouse, which felt hot and humid after the shade of Serena's kitchen. “My reasoning is two-fold. Firstly, we did some calculations and … I think your greenhouse here is smaller than the one at your last house.”

  
“Oh, I hadn't thought of that,” Serena replied, nodding in understanding.

  
“Secondly …” Bernie looked very apologetic and Serena found a grin pushing its way onto her own face. She looked quite adorable. “Evie came to visit Fletcher at work last week. And she very much wanted to know how you were. And we got talking. And I told her you were letting me help in your garden.”

  
“Our garden,” Serena breathed very quietly.

  
“And she expressed a wish to look after a plant herself.” Bernie eyed her, then looked up towards the greenhouse ceiling, innocently leaning against the shelving. “And I may have accidentally said she could have one of the Sungolds.”

Serena chuckled, and Bernie smiled back at her, a bit embarrassed. “Could you not have bought her a gold fish?” Serena asked. “I'm not sure how Fletch will feel about a five foot tomato plant in his house.”

“She wants to keep it in her bedroom,” Bernie admitted.

“Okay,” Serena said, shrugging a bit. “And the sixth of our beautiful babies?”

  
“Morven overhead.”

  
“Oh dear.”

  
“She looked like she felt a bit left out.”

  
“Oh Bernie.”

  
“I said I’d bring it to work tomorrow.” Serena chuckled. “Do you mind?” Serena pressed her lips together, thought a moment. Considered the incredibly sweet and unsure woman in front of her. How could she deny her any of this?

  
“I think it's a lovely idea.”

  
“I'm sorry,” Bernie whispered, a hand over her mouth. “I didn't mean to foster them out.”

  
“You're right though,” Serena agreed, looking around them.

“Not a whole amount of room in here.”

  
“Happy then?”

  
“Evie is definitely getting a big red bow around hers.” Bernie chuckled as Serena slid her hands around her waist, stepped up close to her. “You really are the loveliest person in the world.”

  
“As well as macho and fantastic?” Bernie asked, her voice quiet. Serena's smile widened.

  
“You remember me saying that?” Serena breathed, meaning the latter of the adjectives, a hand slipping up to Bernie's cheek, back of her fingers smoothing against soft skin. Bernie smiled, eyes closing, nodded happily.

  
“I remember most of the things you've said to me.”

  
“Hmm. What d’you like the most?”

  
“I'm not sure,” Bernie said, her own arms pulling at Serena's back, tugging her closer, feeling her hips against her own. “I like it when you say ‘we’.”

  
“Do you?”

  
Bernie pushed their hips against one another, smiled at the noise of appreciation Serena made in her throat, the calm, warm look in her eyes. “When you call the trauma unit ‘our unit’. And things.”

  
“Our garden,” Serena breathed, leaning in, lips an inch from Bernie's. She hummed a bit. “Our plants.”

  
“That kind of thing,” Bernie said. They didn't kiss, just stayed close, two pairs of shuttered eyes gazing at one another.

  
“Perhaps our sungold tomato plants should be put to bed. For the last time,” Serena suggested, hands rubbing the small of Bernie's back in slow circles. Bernie found it a bit hypnotic.

  
“Mmm,” she sighed. They stood still, hips together, arms around each other until Serena shifted backwards and pushed at Bernie's shoulders.

  
“Come on, Major. Time for some heavy lifting.”

  
She allowed Bernie, who pretended to insist but would have relented had Serena pushed it, to lug the large, half-full, pots back into the greenhouse. Bernie pushed them next to the glass, then lifted the bamboo cages out, setting them carefully to one side. Serena lifted the first plant down from the shelf, its leaves bouncing and stalk swaying. Bernie grimaced, hands coming up immediately and almost instinctually to protect the plant, but Serena smiled, reassuringly.

  
“It's okay. Would you like to tap it out?” Bernie looked a little frightened and Serena breathed out a laugh. “It's okay, watch me.”

  
“See one, do one…” Bernie murmured.

  
“Teach one. Indeed.” Serena parted her fingers and laid her wide hand so that the seedling fit snugly between her middle and ring fingers. She gripped the bottom of the pot with her other hand and turned the pot carefully over, the plant cradled upside down between her fingers.  
Shaking the pot smartly, the compost fell cleanly out in a pot-shaped wad, the plant falling with it. Serena caught the whole thing and allowed it to slip out.

  
Placing the pot on the shelf, Serena cupped the bottom of the hard compost and turned it up the right way. She dropped it into the first prepared pot and Bernie (without being promoted or asked, Serena noted) handed her the ripped open growbag full of nutrient-rich compost. Serena took off some of the lower branches, as the plant was sitting quite low in the new pot, then she gathered a few handfuls up and deposited them around the plant. She tucked it in with gentle fingers, then smiled up at Bernie from her crouch. “Your turn.” Bernie helped her up and took the second tomato plant from the shelf.

  
She gingerly put the plant between her fingers (longer than Serena's, so she hoped she would find it easier), turned the pot slowly upside down. The soil did not move. She shook the whole thing a bit. Nothing.

  
“Could be pot-bound,” Serena suggested, and Bernie looked blankly and a little wide-eyed at her. She chuckled. “Just means that the roots have grown a little too well. Give it a tap.”

  
Bernie hesitantly tapped the pot, then again, a little harder. She just managed to catch the plant as it slipped out of the pot. “Oh,” was all she managed, putting the pot quickly and awkwardly on the shelf and holding the compost and plant between both hands.

  
“Careful now. Easy does it.”

Serena reached to support some of the compost too, her arm against Bernie's, and together they lowered it into the second pot. Bernie let out a breath of relief as it hit the bottom. Serena plucked off some of the lower branches and Bernie filled it up to the top with growbag compost. “That’s half.” Serena smiled and Bernie returned the smile. “Which ones did you want to give to Evie and Morven?”

  
“The … smallest ones?” Bernie said questioningly. Serena nodded.

  
“Yes, I can’t imagine Morven’s flat is palatial.” Bernie stood upright and collected the two smallest tomato plants, put them to the side. Then she took the third plant for their greenhouse, took it out of its pot a little more confidently. Serena shifted back and watched Bernie place it gently into the larger pot. She smiled and watched Bernie do the fourth plant, focusing on her soft fingers as they tucked them both in and firmed down the compost. Serena felt tingling in her tummy again, taking in the blonde curtain of hair falling over Bernie’s face, her strong shoulders, tender fingers.

When she was done, Bernie turned her head and caught Serena’s eye. “Enjoying this week’s episode of Gardener’s World?” Bernie asked, teasingly.

“Very much,” Serena teased back, blushing at being caught staring. She took in a deep breath and couldn’t help smiling. “Fancy doing the peppers as well whilst I make us some drinks?” She caught up her empty coffee cup, discarded a while ago on the shelf. There was compost on the handle.

  
“Sure. Okay.” Bernie looked a bit worriedly at her. Serena winked at her, reassuringly.

  
Serena went into the house, leaving Bernie alone to repot the peppers. She returned with her usual (lemonade) and a bottle of beer for Bernie. Bernie rolled her eyes at the beer.

  
“It’s barely four o’clock.”

  
“You’re working so hard.” Serena wiggled it in her fingers. “And it’s straight out of the fridge.” She bit her lip a bit and rested the cold bottle against her neck, sighing her pleasure at the cool condensation as it dripped down her skin. Bernie’s eyes went wide, chemistry crackled between them.

  
“Stop that. I’ve still got three of these to do.” Serena chuckled and handed her the bottle. She took a small swig and put the bag of her hand to her lips. “D’you want me to drop compost all over the floor?”

  
“I’m very sorry,” Serena drawled, blatantly not sorry in the slightest. She sipped her lemonade, stroked the back of her own neck as she watched Bernie take another swig and then place her beer down, going back to repotting the remaining peppers. Serena was impressed with the skill Bernie was showing, her gardening proficiency growing each day, like the clematis growing up her wall.

  
Once Bernie was finished, Serena caught her eye again over the rim of her glass. “We should feed them,” she said.

  
“They won’t get enough feed from the compost?” Bernie asked, taking another drink from her bottle.

  
“I’ve been a little lax and haven’t given them anything yet,” Serena admitted. “Terrible of me, I know.” She lifted a finger and touched underneath one of the flower buds on the nearest tomato, just about to open.

“Should have fed them when they started popping out flowers.”

  
“So what do we feed them with?” Bernie asked, standing up straight and hauling Serena up with her by the hand. “Hot dogs? Burgers? Your fabulous rogan josh?” Serena knew she was joking and chuckled a bit in acknowledgement.

  
“A solution, you mix it with water.” Serena reached for a new bottle of tomato feed and held it out. “You can get granules, but I prefer this stuff. Contains seaweed.”

  
“How very Japanese,” Bernie commented, holding the bottle close to her face and squinting to read the instructions.

  
“I do wish you’d wear your glasses, Bernie,” Serena admonished affectionately, turning away to collect the watering can and take it outside to fill it.

  
“I hate them,” Bernie called out of the greenhouse, so Serena could hear her from the tap.

  
“Really?” Serena shouted back, turning on the tap to fill the can. “I rather like them.” They exchanged a heated look and Bernie blindly put the bottle down on the shelf before scurrying up the garden path and into the house. She returned a moment later wearing her glasses, having retrieved them from her handbag in a hurry.

  
Serena followed her into the greenhouse and trying not to laugh as Bernie forced a very serious expression onto her face as she read the tomato feed instructions, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. “One part feed to eight parts water.” Bernie poured in the correct amount of feed, then Serena stepped back and allowed her to feed the plants herself, stooping down a bit to carefully water the tomatoes, before lifting the can up high to water the peppers.

  
“Would it not have been more sensible to promise the girls a pepper each?” Serena asked, feeling a little flushed by the sight of Bernie in her glasses (not unexpectedly, however). A dawning realization spread over Bernie’s face until horror took over. Serena smiled, touched her arm. “I’m just kidding. They can have the tomatoes.”

  
“Damn.” Bernie sighed and smiled back at Serena, pushing her glasses up her nose a bit. “You see, this is why I need you back at work. I do not make good decisions.”

  
“Only when it comes to plant-gift-giving. And I’ve loved every non-plant-gift you’ve ever given me.”

  
“I’m very much looking forward to next week,” Bernie whispered, hopefully and gently.

  
“Yes,” Serena replied, her gaze tender. “I am craving things getting back to normal somewhat.”

  
“And your garden party,” Bernie murmured, leaning sideways against the shelf. Serena hummed amusedly.

  
“Our,” she corrected, her hand back on Bernie’s forearm, feeling the muscle flex as Bernie held the can. Bernie nodded.

  
“Right. Did you want me to bring anything?”

  
“Just yourself.”

  
“Alright.” Bernie looked into each pot, checked they were well watered, before placing the watering can down on the floor by the door of the greenhouse.

“Anything else we need to do?”

  
“Fancy a walk?” Serena asked. Bernie blinked, took off her glasses, pressed the arm against her lips.

  
“A walk?”

  
“Sure,” Serena said, leading Bernie out of the greenhouse and up the garden path. “There are a couple of lovely gardens I’ve seen in the neighbourhood that I really did want to show you.”

  
“Isn’t that … trespassing?” Bernie looked a little offended and aghast.

  
“Front gardens, Bernie,” Serena explained with a grin. Bernie opened her mouth in understanding and Serena laughed a little more.

  
So they left the house, conscious of Jason’s expectation of fish and chip at six p.m. sharp. Serena slipped her fingers between Bernie’s as they walked and Bernie smiled warmly at her. “This is new,” she commented as they walked, swinging their joined hands a little.

  
“Yes, well, I believe we haven’t really been able to do this much.” Bernie’s smile broadened. Serena rolled her eyes. “Yes, okay. At all.”

  
“Well,” Bernie mused, pouting a bit in thought, “I suppose we’ve not really been out together. Walked anywhere together. When we’ve been in a space where we felt like holding hands.”

  
“No, I suppose we haven’t.” They smiled at each other, the summer sun warm on their cheeks.

  
They walked for a few minutes in companionable silence. Serena felt at ease, felt loose and free, holding Bernie’s hand in public and walking along the suburban streets within her calm little neighbourhood. She breathed deeply and took in the different scents of the different gardens they passed, all of them lovely and full of colour, but no gardens yet that she specifically wanted to show Bernie.

  
They came to a small cottage and Serena stopped, pulled on Bernie’s hand so that she stopped as well. She pointed over the stone wall with a small smile. Bernie looked over, eyes shining her interest. It was a beautiful garden, full of things she recognised, and some things she didn’t. A large climbing flowering plant adorned the little porch. She scanned the full-to-bursting flowerbeds, located something she thought she knew. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. “Anti … rhynum?” she asked, hopefully.

  
“Snapdragons,” Serena agreed. “Good guess.”

  
“I can see …” Bernie peered over the wall. “Oh,” she said excitedly. “They have a clematis.” Serena chuckled.

  
“It’s lovely, isn’t it. Those big purple flowers.”

  
“Yours is paler though.” Bernie seemed to think for a moment, then nodded, decisively. “I prefer yours.”

  
“Those there are gladioli,” Serena explained, pointing to a group of tall, brightly-coloured flowers that looked a bit like foxgloves. “They grow from tubers.”

  
“Like the dahlias,” Bernie finished. Serena squeezed her hand and pulled her close, her lips by Bernie’s ear.

  
“Like the dahlias,” she breathed and felt Bernie shiver against her. Bernie’s free hand lifted and touched the back of Serena’s neck as Serena pushed her gently back against the garden wall.

  
“What if someone sees?” Bernie asked, voice wobbly, like her knees, all of a sudden.

  
“Would you mind?” Serena asked, kissing Bernie’s neck gently. Bernie took in a shaky breath and leant back against the wall, trying to gain some control.

  
“No,” she admitted, letting go of Serena’s hand and cupping her chin to draw her away a bit, to look into her eyes. Serena closed the gap between them and kissed her gently on the lips, hands gripping onto her hips, thumbs hooking round and into the back pockets of Bernie’s cotton shorts. Bernie murmured quietly her appreciation, feeling her body tingle with the slow way Serena was kissing her. It was a warm day. The stone against her back was solid. She cared only that Serena was kissing her, only that they were together.

  
A blackbird flew from one tree to another, it’s peel of song breaking them apart with breathless surprise. Serena smiled shyly, her fingers filtering through Bernie's hair. She felt young, daring, but calm. The sunlight played with Bernie's hair as the tree branches above them dappled shade over them. Bernie leant to nuzzle their noses together and Serena giggled. “There was another garden,” Serena breathed, swallowing a bit, the familiar ache settled comfortably between her legs. “But I'm actually rather hungry.”

  
“Are you?” Bernie asked, teasingly, testing the waters a bit. Serena laughed.

  
“Yes dear. For food.” Bernie pursed her lips around a smile.

  
“Just for food?” They beamed at one another.

  
“Fish and chip night,” Serena said, quietly, dipping her head to press her lips to Bernie's neck. Bernie's intake of breath spurred her on and she grazed the soft skin with her teeth. “And then I think …”

  
“You think?” Bernie asked, breathing deeply as Serena cupped the back of her head and pressed her lips under her jaw. Someone walked by, across the road, gave them an unbothered look before carrying on their way.

  
“I think …” Serena pulled back to look at Bernie, caught her slightly worried gaze and turned to watch the woman walking away from them. She stroked Bernie's hair behind her ears. She turned back to her. “I think we have a lot of …” She narrowed her eyes, searching for the right word. “Catching up to do?” Bernie nodded.

  
“You're ready?” Bernie asked, leaning back properly against the wall, linking her fingers with Serena's and lifting them to kiss her knuckles. “You're sure?”  
Serena simply nodded.

  
“Jason will be at home, won't he?” Bernie murmured, a small smile on her face.

  
“I think we've both had enough practice at being quiet,” Serena said, her expression affectionate. “Does it bother you?”

  
“Maybe.” Bernie shrugged and they started the short walk back to Serena's house. “I suppose I was … hoping when we … I just wanted it to be …”

  
“Perfect?” Serena asked, her thumb rubbing over Bernie's fingers. Bernie nodded, shrugged again. “Well, I suppose I've made you wait long enough. The least I can do is wait until you're comfortable.”

  
“Oh no, I didn't mean it like that,” Bernie interjected, face a little upset.

  
“You are undeniably sweet,” Serena said, smile wide. Bernie squeezed her fingers.

  
They walked in silence for a while and when they got to Serena's front gate Bernie tugged on her hand to get her to stop. “I don't want to wait,” she said in a rush. “I want to …” She didn't want to say the words, and certainly not right there in the street. But Serena understood what she meant and nodded.

  
“I want to, too.”

  
And that was that.

  
Bernie went to collect the fish and chips, after a very detailed description from Jason about what he wanted and what she should ask for. Serena insisted she and Bernie share a portion of chips. Bernie tried not to think about Serena sucking salt and vinegar from her fingertips as she drove to the chippy.

  
On her return, they all sat outside at the garden table and ate. Bernie wanted a clear head so declined Serena's offer of a beer. They shared a shy smile and Jason looked between them as his aunt lowered her head and rubbed the back of her neck. Unable to formulate a theory to why his aunt and Bernie were acting a little oddly he, thankfully, chose to ignore it, with the predisposed assumption that if it was important he would be notified.

  
They all drank tea and watched television together. Serena was careful about how much they touched. She felt hot, tingly, a little breathless. She knew what would happen if they sat too close on the sofa. Jason was there. They utilised their own palatial resolve and sat at opposite corners of the three-seater sofa, just their feet touching. They sipped their teas and shared affectionate glances. Finally, and there was an audible sigh from either one or both of them, they weren't sure which, when Jason said goodnight.

  
Strangely, they found themselves unmoving and untouching. Serena allowed her socked foot to poke at Bernie's ankle. Bernie smiled, nervously, shyly, but warmly. She set her cup on the coffee table. Then she lifted a hand and walked her fingers like a spider across the back of the sofa. Serena watched her hand as it stopped, by her shoulder. A forefinger rose to touch at Serena cheek. Serena sighed and closed her eyes, leaning into the tiny caress. Then she peeked one eye open playfully. “Why do I feel so nervous?” she whispered and Bernie breathed out a relieved laugh.

  
“I'm so glad I'm not alone,” Bernie moaned, and they both chuckled.

  
“It's all very silly,” Serena said, reaching across to Bernie before shifting closer, pulling her feet under her bottom and sliding a hand into Bernie's hair. Bernie shifted a bit too, her knees against Serena's on the sofa. “It's not like we haven't done it before.”

  
“It has been a while though,” Bernie reminded her, her gaze soft. “And it has felt a little like starting again.”

  
“I hope that's a good thing.”

  
“Of course it is.”

  
Serena nodded and sniffed a bit, eyes suddenly wet. “I'm really sorry we've not been …” She stroked Bernie's ear gently and Bernie shook her head.

  
“It's okay. I know it's been difficult for you.” She leant against Serena's hand and turned her head to kiss her palm. “You've not been yourself.”

  
“I'm finally back,” Serena said, happily but tears still in her eyes. Bernie held open one arm in an invitation and Serena shifted to snuggle under Bernie's chin, cheek against her shoulder. Their arms surrounded one another, enclosed one another in a warm embrace. Serena sat sideways across Bernie's lap. Bernie kissed her forehead, closed her eyes against Serena's hair.

  
“I'm glad you're back.”

  
They cuddled for a while, so close, pressed against one another, Serena's knees up by Bernie's ribs, her lips pressed against Bernie's neck. Hands gripped Bernie's vest around the waist. They breathed together and felt warm together, Serena closed her eyes.

  
When she opened them Bernie was smiling down at her, reaching up to brush a stray tear that had dared to fall from her cheek. Serena turned her face up and Bernie kissed her gently, once, twice, then a third time with more vigour. Serena lifted her hands and cupped Bernie's face, sweeping her cheeks, her ears, her neck, feeling Bernie's fingers start a lazy trail from her hips and upwards.

  
The kiss surged between them, small gasps peppering the silence around them. The kiss blossomed into something else, some more raw and pressing and hungry. When Serena moaned Bernie pulled back, eyes careful and questioning. “I think we should go to bed,” Serena breathed, trying to calm her body enough so that she might manage the staircase.

  
“I think that's a very good idea,” Bernie replied.

  
They clambered from their haphazard position on the sofa and walked together upstairs. As Bernie hopped up the last step, Serena caught her around the waist and pulled her in for a kiss. Bernie pulled away, giving her a disbelieving look, nodding towards Jason's door. Serena smiled and pushed the door to her bedroom open.

  
Bernie stepped in behind her, closed the door after them. She stood still and watched Serena round the bed and turn on the lamp, before pulling the curtains closed. When she turned back to Bernie she gave her a tender smile. “Don't look so rabbit caught in headlights. I don't bite you know.”

  
Bernie folded her arms. “You do … sometimes,” she replied, stepped carefully towards the bed and took Serena by the waist.

  
“Only if I'm asked nicely,” Serena said lightly, hands sliding up and over Bernie's shoulders.

  
“Must I say please?” Bernie flirted, voice low, nose brushing the side of Serena's. Serena gasped a bit before their lips came together, hands staying still on top of clothing.

  
A slow kiss, just standing together in the low light of Serena's bedroom, just remembering the beginning of this. Serena pressed her tongue against Bernie's lips, requesting entry, and Bernie turned her head just so and parted her lips. Tongues danced, lips smoothed and Serena shuddered. Bernie gathered her close and kissed her forehead. Serena sighed as she rested against Bernie's shoulder. “You never need to say please,” she whispered, feeling Bernie's hands rub up and down her back.

  
Bernie leant back, put Serena at arm’s length and reached to the bottom of Serena's T-shirt, played with the hem for a moment. Serena smiled, permission shining from her gaze and from the way she lifted her arms. Bernie swept the T-shirt over her head and flung it onto the chair by her bed. Serena grasped at Bernie's vest and pulled, peeling it from her, messing up her hair as it brushed over her head as well. It joined the T-shirt.

  
They stood in their bras and shorts and looked for a while at one another. They'd made the effort in the last few weeks to look at one another without clothes on, and it had been enjoyable sharing that again. But this was different. Bernie felt she didn't need to hold back the hunger in her own eyes. There was indeed no more holding back to do.

  
And Bernie felt nerves flood her body again, her hand going to her chest. Serena saw immediately and stepped up, caught her hands in her own, squeezed her fingers. “I know,” she murmured quietly, a soft smile on her face. “It's okay.”

  
“I've missed you,” Bernie whispered back, eyes a little full of longing and desperation.

  
“Come on,” Serena said. “Let's just snuggle down, hmm?” Bernie nodded and watched in wonder as Serena shed the remainder of her clothes and crept to the bed, slipping naked under the sheets. She crooked a finger and tilted her head a bit. Bernie shook herself, took off her bra, shorts, pants, socks. Pulled the covers back and lay down next to Serena, arms reaching for her. “We have all night. Neither of us have anywhere to be in the morning.”

  
“No rush,” Bernie agreed. She tangled their legs and held Serena's hand against the pillows. Serena smiled warmly at her, reaching out, pulling them closer, bodies brushing. They kissed, hands settling on naked skin for the first time in a long while. Serena bent a knee, rested it against the outside of Bernie's thigh, kissed her thoroughly and lovingly.

  
Bernie rolled them so that she lay on top of Serena, a thigh between hers, pressed tightly together. The kiss broke and Bernie held herself up on her elbows. She felt her chest heaving and just looked down at the beautiful smiling brown-eyed woman beneath her.

  
“You feel amazing,” Serena admitted, a hand slipping down Bernie's side to trail against her hip.

  
“So do you,” Bernie breathed back. She shifted her hips to get comfortable. Serena's fingertips tickled up and down her sides. Bernie gasped a bit, shivered. Serena's smile broadened.

  
“Oh Bernie,” she breathed, her hips rolling upwards a bit seeking pressure for a moment. Bernie pushed downwards and Serena's eyes slipped closed, her fingertips pressing into Bernie's flesh at her back. Those hands slid down to Bernie's hips and tugged a bit, Serena's knee coming up a bit, around Bernie's hip. Serena pressed her other thigh up between Bernie's legs. They both moaned quietly at the contact, in surprise at how wet they both felt. Bernie pressed downwards again, couldn't help it really, not with the way Serena felt against her, but then took a breath and made a conscious decision to pull back.

  
“Relax a bit,” Bernie encouraged as she saw Serena's wide eyes, dark and full of pleasure. “Like you said, we have all night.”

  
Serena sighed and Bernie felt her stomach muscles relax, her thighs go loose. Serena nodded. “Okay.”  
Bernie dipped her head to kiss Serena's cheek, then her jaw, then her neck, and finally her lips. Serena lifted her hands to filter her fingers through Bernie's hair. Bernie trailed kisses across Serena's lips, cheek, chin. Down her neck, the soft skin of her sternum. She shifted and slid down a little, hands under Serena's shoulders, and she felt Serena's thighs relax properly, falling away from her.

  
Stretching back, Serena inhaled quickly as Bernie's lips teased at the soft flesh of her breast, the sloping top, the curving side. Her hand stayed at the back of Bernie's head, encouraging and reassuring that this was exactly what she wanted and that she didn't want Bernie to stop. When Bernie's tongue flicked out against her nipple, Serena couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips.  
They were conscious that being quiet was the way to go, so instead of moans and guttural noises to express how they felt, they settled easily into whispered words.

  
“That's … wonderful Bernie,” Serena breathed as Bernie's tongue circled and flicked and caused Serena nipple to harden. The cool air hit it as Bernie pulled away, a soft smile on her face.

  
“I love you,” Bernie whispered, catching Serena's eye. Serena let out a happy breath, arched her back again when Bernie's fingers slipped up and over her damp breast, whilst her lips went back to tease the other.

  
“I love you,” Serena promised, fingers scraping Bernie's shoulder and hair, eyes closing at the building pleasure between her legs. “Oh god. Just like that.” Bernie hummed happily, taking her nipple into her mouth and flicking her tongue quickly for a moment. Serena shuddered, tried not to moan.

  
Bernie pulled back again, smiling up at Serena. She slid back up to Serena lips, elbows back up over Serena's shoulders and resting in the pillows. They kissed unhurriedly and Serena brought her hands up to cup Bernie's breasts very gently, unhurriedly, thumbs smoothing a bit again her soft skin.

  
The kiss broke and they just breathed for a while, Bernie's eyes becoming heavy lidded as Serena's thumbs made very gentle circles round and then over her nipples. “I've missed this,” Serena breathed, I creasing the pressure, feeling Bernie's hips pressing her a bit, she thought probably unconsciously. Bernie inhaled deeply, forced her eyes open and nodded as she gazed down at Serena.

  
“Me too,” she breathed. They smiled a little coyly at one another and Bernie's hands stroked Serena's hair. Serena moved her hands to Bernie's sides again. “You're still so beautiful,” Bernie sighed, eyes so gentle.

  
“Must be all our outdoor activities. Nothing like a bit of vitamin D to make one glow.”

  
Bernie smirked. “Must be.” They relaxed a bit, Bernie rolled into one hip, removing her weight from Serena. She snuggled down by her left side, nose sneaking up by Serena's ear. She inhaled, taking in the smell of Serena's shampoo and perfume and everything else that was just her. Serena chuckled under her breath, Bernie's breath tickling her a bit, not annoyedly, palm flat and sweeping back and forth around Bernie's waist.

  
“You're beautiful too,” she whispered and Bernie, unused to such compliments even from her partner, blushed and looked away for a moment. Serena just smiled and let her have her shy minute, kissing her forehead and sliding an arm under her head so Bernie could rest properly against her shoulder.

  
Bernie relaxed after a moment, her hand beginning an idle re-exploration of Serena's torso, decisively avoiding her breasts this time, tickling around her ribs, her belly-button, up her sternum. Gentle fingers caused new tingling to spread over Serena's skin and she found herself wiggling a bit and not uncomfortably. She let her own hand wander across Bernie's shoulders and upper back, wherever she could reach. Her other hand touched at Bernie's cheek and guided her lips to her own.

  
As they kissed, Bernie's hand slid lower, fingertips tracing tiny circles down Serena's belly and then into the neat hair they found. Serena inhaled through her nose, let her legs fall open a little. She closed her eyes into the kiss and felt Bernie's fingers trail all the way downwards, then all the way back up, a light feathery touch against the skin of one breast.

  
She repeated the caress, tickling all the way down, round a hipbone this time, then all the way up to touch over a nipple gently. Serena arched her back a bit, felt Bernie settle more comfortably against her, hooking a foot around her calf, her knee parting Serena's legs a touch more. Serena forced herself to relax, despite the anticipation. Bernie's hand trailed down once more, fingertips brushing between her legs, careful, slow.

  
Bernie broke the kiss and watched Serena's face as her fingers dipped between blushed lower lips, into gentle wetness. Serena watched her face, thumb caressing Bernie's cheekbone. Bernie just allowed two fingers to slide back and forth for a moment, her eyes a bit narrowed in thought, eyebrows furrowed. Serena gasped as those fingers settled against her clit and began to circle.

  
It was slow and it was gentle. Bernie looked down at Serena, expression so concerned and serious. “Okay?” she asked quietly. Serena smiled, eyes affectionate.

  
“Very okay,” she whispered back, parting her legs a little more and holding Bernie's waist with one hand, cheek in the other. She sighed as gentle waves of tingling pleasure spread from where Bernie's fingers were and outwards. She was flushed, breathing deeply, ribs expanding with each circle of Bernie's fingers.

  
“I don't know if … if anything’s changed since …” Bernie looked worried, and Serena felt her heart swell with affection. “It's been a while and I know people can … maybe feel different…”

  
“Bernie,” Serena breathed, pulling her gaze back to her own. She gave her a sweet and reassuring smile. “That's perfect.” Bernie searched her eyes.

  
“It's okay if it's not,” she said, already half convinced by Serena's words. “You can tell me.” Serena lifted her hand from Bernie's waist and cupped Bernie's jaw in both her palms. She brought her down for a kiss then stroked Bernie's cheeks.

  
“Perfect.” Her smile broadened. “Perhaps a little faster?” she requested cutely. Bernie smiled then, nodded.

  
“Right.”

  
Bernie quickened the circles against Serena's clit and Serena stretched back, lifting a foot to the bed, opening her legs wide under the duvet. Her hips rolled a little. She gasped, her own fingers sinking into Bernie's hair as her head fell backwards into the pillows. “Oh,” she breathed, “like that.”

  
Bernie quickened her fingers again and watched in wonder. They were finally here, finally back right here with one another. Close and naked and full of pleasure. She felt her own centre twitch a bit as she watched Serena begin to roll her hips in time with the circles, jolting a little on occasion.

  
“Just like that,” Serena whispered, her eyes wanting to close in pleasure. She forced them open however, locked her gaze with Bernie's as Bernie's hand touched her in small fast circles. She shuddered a bit, felt Bernie's fingers slip downwards, just touch at her entrance a little, before returning to that bundle of nerves.

  
She felt it blossoming, ebbing outwards from her clitoris over her whole body. And it was so fantastic and wonderful and so familiar. Serena found herself whispering Bernie's name over and over as the orgasm crashed gently around her, hips rolling and jumping, skin on fire. And she held her breath, some tiny part of her brain still aware of their need to be quiet.

  
As the rolling pleasure filtered away, she let out the breath. Bernie's lips were on her shoulder, kissing her over and over. Breathing deeply, skin glistening with sweat, Serena relaxed back, reached to touch Bernie's hand and to thread her soaked fingers between her own. She smiled and found she didn't mind at all. She stretched happily, breathily laughing a little. Bernie lifted her head, was smiling at her under her fringe and Serena pulled her down for a kiss. The kiss was full of smiles and Serena stretched again before shifting into her side and snuggling her nose against Bernie's. “I've missed that so much,” Serena whispered, eyes shining with languid happiness. Bernie chuckled a bit.

  
“You haven't … you know?” Serena's eyebrows hit her hairline.

  
“Are you asking me whether I've touched myself since …” Bernie blushed and bit her lip.

  
“You don't have to answer,” Bernie replied, feeling foolish.

  
“I have,” Serena stated simply, softly. “A couple of times.” She shook her head. “Just felt like I was … testing the waters.” She breathed out a chuckle. “As it were.”

  
“I suppose I can hardly complain about that.” Bernie pursed her lips around a smile. Serena understood what the smile meant and grinned at her.

  
“I'm not surprised you have,” Serena said. “And pleased, actually.” Bernie laughed and sighed and stroked her face. “Makes me feel glad … to know you weren't … missing out whilst I was …”

  
“Grieving,” Bernie stated. Serena nodded, eyes sad for a moment. She sighed.

  
“Yes.” They cuddled a moment more, then Serena took in a deep breath. “Be my little spoon?”  
Bernie's eyebrows shot up, but she nodded, relaxing into the realisation that Serena wanted to sleep. And she didn't mind, not really. They'd never been a couple that took score or required a take-turns rule.

  
So she shifted around onto her left side and snuggled back against Serena, who in turn wrapped her arms around Bernie and buried her face in her hair. She murmured her contentment and Bernie felt her cocoon her body into her back, the duvet around their shoulders. And she was happy and felt safe.

  
Serena's lips kissed the back of her neck. They teased the skin there a bit, nose caressing too. Bernie just sighed and squeezed the arm around her waist. The hand attached to that arm slid up a little, from under her ribs, to one small bare breast. Serena's hand cupped her fully and still Bernie just smiled and relaxed back and closed her eyes ready for sleep.

  
When the hand began to draw circles against her smooth skin, Bernie blinked open her eyes and raised an eyebrow. She inhaled a bit, arched her back just a bit to push her breast more firmly into Serena's hand. She heard a low chuckle. “Hmm. Thought it was time to sleep did you?” Serena asked and Bernie chuckled back.

  
“I'd have been happy with that,” Bernie whispered in reply, wiggling her hips a bit, pushing her backside against Serena's hips.

  
“So terribly sweet. But hardly a fair suggestion.”

  
“I would have coped,” Bernie murmured. Serena kissed her bare shoulder.

  
“I wouldn't have,” Serena breathed, running her tongue along Bernie's shoulder, before taking her nipple between her fingers and rolling. Bernie gasped and lay her palm against Serena's hand. Serena made a quiet noise of complaint in her throat.

  
“Really no need,” Bernie explained coyly. Serena made the noise again but did relent.

  
“Okay,” she said. “But next time, I get to make you squirm.” Bernie snickered and wiggled her hips backwards.

  
“Deal.”

  
Serena slipped her hand slowly down Bernie's midline, between her breasts, down around her navel, then curling around her mons. Her fingers were gentle, but Bernie found she couldn't help the roll of her hips. Serena slid one finger between Bernie's outer lips and starting a slow caress all over, down to slip inside her a bit, before resting gently on her clit. Bernie gasped and reached up to tangle their fingers together, Serena's left arm under her head. She arched back, her leg where it lay against the bed bending upwards, the foot of the other resting against the mattress, turning her a little into her back.  
Serena relished in the way Bernie responded to her touch, drank it in like a parched woman would with water. Kissed under Bernie's jaw and flicked her skin with her tongue, all the while her fingertip trailing soft caresses in haphazard patterns against Bernie's clit.

  
Bernie was shifting around, trying to create more pressure, soft gasps and exhales and murmurings of Serena's name. Serena rested her chin over Bernie's shoulder, could see how flushed she was, how taught and desperate she was for release. Feeling an overwhelming wave of love pass through her, Serena relented, brought her thumb down, rolled Bernie's clit in a way she remembered she liked, between thumb and forefinger. She felt Bernie respond immediately, thighs opening wide, head falling backwards, hand squeezing her own.

  
Soft but deep breaths were the only noise Bernie made, hips rolling in a rhythm with Serena's fingers, and Serena matched her thrust for thrust. She licked at Bernie's neck, finding that place behind her ear, moving her hair aside with her nose to concentrate on it as she concentrated on that collection of nerves with her hand.  
“So close,” Serena heard Bernie breathe, probably unintentionally, Serena reckoned as Bernie, as she remembered, rarely spoke whilst she was being touched. A small whimper escaped the blonde and her hips started to jerk, and she arched her back against Serena's front. Serena intensified the caresses of her fingers and Bernie started to shake as she came, back so arched, fingers squeezing Serena's like she'd never let go. 

 

It lasted a long time and Serena found Bernie's hand gripping her wrist, pulling her away. “No more,” Bernie requested, eyes closed and whole body still twitching. Serena left her hand against Bernie's hip and unfurled the fingers from her other hand out of Bernie's, leaning up a little, that hand in her own hair, elbow in the pillows. She smiled down at Bernie, watched as she rode the aftershocks, one arm stretching above her head. Serena caressed Bernie's hip with her wet fingers.

Bernie eventually relaxed back, let out a breath. She opened her eyes and found Serena smiling down at her, all the warmth and love she could ever expect to see, in her gaze. Bernie smiled back, reaching a hand up to touch her face. They kissed languidly, slowly, fingers caressing cheeks and necks and shoulders softly. Bernie rolled to properly face her. Serena trailed kisses down Bernie's cheek and neck, pulled her blonde mess of curls under her chin so her cheek lay against Serena's shoulder, Serena herself rolling onto her back. Bernie sighed, wrapped her arms around Serena bare waist, snuggled in tight. “Love you,” Bernie breathed. Serena hummed out her amusement.

  
“I think I rather love you too.”

  
“Amazing,” was all Bernie could manage.

  
“Well, I must admit I do feel somewhat out of practise,” Serena half-joked, stroking Bernie's hair behind her ear and kissing her forehead.

  
“Can't tell,” Bernie breathed, squeezing Serena with both her arms and legs. Her hand came up to cup Serena's soft breast, childlike and with no further intention. Serena's smile became tender.

  
“Now we can sleep,” Serena whispered, leaving one last kiss against Bernie's hair. Bernie was already fully relaxed and snuggled right in, eye closed. Serena felt her slowly fall to sleep.

  
Smiling and feeling undoubtedly warm all over, and content, Serena watched her partner (and they were, finally, truly, back to being so) sleep, delighted and happy that they were here now, with nothing left.

  
She felt well and truly free, ready for life again, ready to go back to work, throw herself into the project that was AAU, and then come home and for the garden to be her continuing project too. Lazy afternoons with Bernie, tending to their plants and their souls, stealing kisses in the greenhouse without hesitation or need to hold back. Cooking for Jason, travelling in together to work, arguing carefully over the radio, back to normal.

  
Her daughter was gone. And that was very sad. She knew she'd always feel sad about it, but relaxed into the fact that it was normal. Serena kissed Bernie's hair again, wanting to kiss her over and over but pleasantly content with the sleeping blonde staying that way. And Elinor, with all her insecurities and bitchiness, would have wanted her mother to be happy, deep down.

  
And so, as she lay with the most beautiful woman (in her eyes) in her arms, felt the gentle rise and fall of the most beautiful ribs, watched the most beautiful eyelashes resting on the most perfect cheeks, she decided that tomorrow, she would ask Bernie to stay. To move in. To be happy with her.

  
And that's exactly what she did.

  
*~*~*~*~*~*


	9. Secret World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It rains, so the garden party is postponed. Serena starts back at work. They repot an orchid. Bernie learns about suckers.

 

June 9th

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

Serena brought two mugs of warm coffee into the conservatory and found Bernie, chin in her hand, staring outside into the rainy afternoon with sad eyes. The garden was drenched, it hadn’t stopped raining for two days. Serena came up behind her and placed the mugs on the small table, then lay a hand on Bernie’s shoulder, thumb smoothing through her T-shirt. “It’s okay. We’ll just postpone it.”

 

“It’s such a shame though,” Bernie replied, sighing. Serena pushed her bottom lip out in sympathy. That earned her a small smile from Bernie.

 

“I know. But, this is Britain. And we haven’t had to complain about the weather for the last two months. Stands to reason we were due for a rain storm.” Bernie sighed and put her hand on top of Serena’s on her shoulder.

 

“And on your first week back.”

 

“I know.” Bernie grasped her fingers, took her hand, pulled at her until Serena perched on Bernie’s lap, a tense smile on her face. “Bernie,” she half-complained, shifting a bit.

 

“I need comfort,” Bernie complained, pulling at Serena’s waist until she slid properly into her lap. Serena sighed and slipped her hand around the back of Bernie’s neck, her other hand against her upper arm.

 

“Is that right?” Bernie nodded and snuggled her nose into Serena’s shoulder, burying her obvious grin. Serena chuckled and cuddled her close, ignoring the fact that they were very much not teenagers and were definitely unaccustomed to sitting in one another’s laps.

 

Serena was back at work now, super-numery with Ric guiding and shadowing her. Bernie had complained at this suggestion from Hansson, but Serena had agreed, explaining that it would be better for both of them to not be working so closely together during the transition of her returning to full duties. The first day they’d barely seen one another. Bernie had pouted, until Serena had made her smile by suggesting they should go out for celebratory drinks after her first shift back. They took Jasmine and Morven and Fletch and Raf and Essie and Sasha out, and Bernie had watched Essie have a quiet word with Serena, before Serena had taken Sasha’s arm and led him away for a minute into a quiet corner.

 

Bernie hadn’t asked what they’d spoken about, but when she’d glanced over they had seemed very serious and Sasha had seemed upset. Serena had put her arm around him and rubbed his shoulder and he had closed his eyes and nodded. When Serena came back to them, she’d smiled warmly at Bernie and explained that Sasha would be a late addition to their garden party, and that they were to be kind to him.

 

They had worked three shifts together so far, on AAU. The transition had been worrying and a bit frightening for Serena, but she’d found her rhythm and cadence again in the hustle of the ward. Apart from a few minor changes that Bernie had already told her about in their brief conversations about work during her time off, things seemed the same. Morven was different, more confident, happier, Serena thought. Bernie had pushed her whilst she’d been away, had given her confidence. Fletch was less stressed, had benefitted from the extra cash from Artie, despite deciding to give most of it back to his daughter. Raf was in and out, working on Kellar sometimes, on AAU others. Jasmine seemed happy on Darwin. The rest of the team were the same, exactly the same. Serena hoped she herself wasn’t.

 

So, the garden party would need to wait its turn. Serena cuddled Bernie close to her chest, knowing that under all the bravado Bernie really was disappointed. The last couple of days she had really been excited about it, talking about buying some nice soft drinks for the kids, looking up cocktails on the internet for the adults, planning the trifle she was helping Serena with. She’d even arrived at Serena’s one evening with some little umbrellas for their drinks. That had made Serena laugh out loud.

 

Serena had asked Bernie to move in. She’d stuck to her plan, asked her the day after they’d rekindled the physical side of their relationship, over morning coffee and croissants. Bernie had been unsure, had looked concerned, had made absolutely sure it wasn’t too soon for Serena. “I feel lonely here. I don’t want to be without you in my home anymore.” So the agreement had been made – Bernie would move in when they both had a couple of days free, after the garden party.

 

Bernie realised this, sat back from Serena’s shoulder, gave her a sorrowful look. “Does this mean ... um ...” Bernie bit her lip and Serena tucked a stray curl of Bernie’s hair behind her ear. “That we have to wait until after the party for me to ... um ... move in?”

 

“No,” Serena said immediately, amused a bit, smiling tenderly at Bernie. “No, of course you can move in whenever is convenient. Whenever you want.” She pressed a kiss to Bernie’s cheek. “You don’t need to wait until the party.”

 

“I had a thought,” Bernie said, her hand smoothing around Serena’s back. “Actually. Why don’t we have a sort of all day party? Instead of just the evening?”

 

“Like an open house?” Serena asked, with interest.

 

“Yeah.” Bernie shrugged. “Not everyone is going to be able to make just the evening. We can serve lunch for those on a late shift, perhaps a barbeque for those around for the afternoon and evening?” She seemed tentative and Serena nodded.

 

“That sounds wonderful, Bernie.”

 

“And if we ... if we have it in ...” Bernie frowned in thought. “When can we pick the tomatoes? And dig up the potatoes?” Serena chuckled.

 

“August. Around then.”

 

“If we waited until then. Until things are harvested ...”

 

“We can show off the fruits of our labours?” Bernie nodded. Serena nodded back, a toothy smile on her face. “What a good idea.” Bernie smirked, nervousness dropping from her face as Serena’s hand stroked her neck.

 

“Well, I do have them on occasion.”

 

“You do.” Serena leaned awkwardly to reach into her own jeans pocket and retrieve her phone. Bernie held her waist tight to keep her safe. “Right. Better get texting.” She pointed at Bernie. “You do the girls, I’ll do the boys.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Bernie woke in Serena’s bed (nearly my bed, actually, she thought happily), naked (which was expected, she had fallen asleep that way), flat on her back and with a strange heaviness against her tummy. She kept her eyes closed and sighed at the sound of the rain hammering against the window. She put a hand to her eyes and rubbed them for a minute, stretching languidly. The weight against her stomach moved a bit and a murmur from between her legs made her grin.

 

Serena Campbell was lying between Bernie’s legs, the duvet tented over her head, cheek against her thigh, a hungry look on her face. Bernie watched her glance down and raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing down there?” Bernie asked, holding the duvet up a bit and blinking open her eyes, chuckling at Serena, who’s hands were wrapped around her thighs, which were somehow resting over Serena’s shoulders.

 

“Damn,” Serena breathed. “I was hoping to wake you up with something nice.”

 

“Were you?” Bernie asked, over-acted disappointment on her face and in her voice. “Shall I go back to sleep?” she suggested in a stage-whisper.

 

“I think you had better. Although I do feel your surprise has been ruined somewhat.”

 

Bernie smiled and settled back against the pillows again, closed her eyes obediently and pretended to snore. That caused Serena to snort, soft breath on Bernie’s thigh. Bernie tried not to chuckle in response but failed. “Okay, I’m asleep. I’m asleep,” Bernie reassured her, inhaling deeply and forcing her body to relax and her breath to even out.

 

She felt Serena’s lips against her thigh, very soft, very gentle, teasing the skin there, trailing in little circles. Bernie felt Serena’s palms smooth up her thighs, fingertips circling her hipbones as they reached them, then down again pushing Bernie’s knees apart a little more  - not that they weren’t spread wide already, Bernie noted, smugly. She wondered how Serena had done that without waking her.

 

Bernie sighed as Serena’s lips kissed gently at her thigh, hand on that thigh pressing her close. Serena shifted upwards a bit then, resting her nose against Bernie’s stomach just above her navel, pressed her lips in a kiss there too, another kiss over her navel and her tongue flicking out to dip inside. Bernie gasped a bit, pushed her body to stay relaxed, breathed steadily. Serena’s hands smoothed up Bernie’s body to cup round her breasts, fingertips trailing a bit against suddenly hard nipples. Then they were slipping down her body again, across the dip of her waist, and Bernie felt the pause in Serena, felt her breath right there against her centre.

 

She was very tentative. Serena hadn’t done this before, kissed her there. Bernie gave her the time to look, to pause, shuttered open her eyes to send Serena a gentle look, stroked Serena’s hand against her thigh with a careful forefinger. Serena smiled up at her, raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be asleep?” she whispered. Bernie just smiled and shrugged at her. Serena nodded a bit, apparently not really minding, and her eyes flicked down to Bernie’s sex again.

 

Serena inhaled deeply, just running her gaze over Bernie’s skin, the soft hair over her mons, the pink and flushed flesh of her labia. She’d seen this part of her before, of course, when they’d been in bed together over the last week. But not quite this up close. This was a different experience, so near to something she found so exquisite. Like a detailed inspection of a shellfish, or an immaculate dessert. She smiled widely at that thought, the analogy fit perfectly. Bernie’s sex was something she’d wanted to taste for a long time, but when she finally had gotten the courage to think about trying, terrible things had happened, and she’d not thought anymore about it, until a week ago.

 

So now, she lay between Bernie’s legs and looked. She dipped her head and placed a hand over Bernie’s mons to smooth her a bit, to stroke her, and pressed her lips just by her hand. Bernie inhaled deeply and her thighs tensed a bit, Serena felt it, but she stayed still and returned to a relaxed and placid state. Serena inhaled deeply herself, smelt Bernie right there, couldn’t describe the heady smell of her but decided she liked it. She pushed Bernie’s outer lips back a little, and slowly and gently pressed a kiss to the pink and slick flesh below.

 

Bernie responded again, shivered a bit, pushed her hips upwards ever-so slightly. She pulled at Serena’s free hand and slotted their fingers together, holding on and squeezing as a gesture of reassurance. Serena felt herself become more confident, pressed another open-mouthed kiss to Bernie’s clitoris, left her lips there, moved her lips like she would kiss Bernie, moved her whole head a bit.

 

Bernie squeezed Serena’s hand again, looked over at the clock on her bedside table. “Serena?” she breathed, moaning a bit as Serena’s lips left her.

 

“Yes, darling?” Serena replied, smoothing her tummy with her palm.

 

“Jason’s gone to work, hasn’t he?” Serena chose not to comment on the fact that Bernie was thinking about her nephew in the situation they were in, nodded kindly.

 

“I heard him leave twenty minutes ago.”

 

“Good.”

 

“May I continue?” Serena whispered, teasingly. Bernie nodded, chuckling despite herself.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“That’s okay,” Serena said.

 

“I just didn’t want him walking in whilst ...” Serena nodded, rubbing her tummy again.

 

“He wouldn’t.”

 

“I know I just ...” Bernie looked apologetically down at Serena, who had rested her cheek against Bernie’s thigh.

 

“I suppose one of us must be pragmatic.”

 

“Have I killed the mood?” Bernie asked. Serena kissed the inside of her thigh.

 

“No.” They smiled cutely at one another, Serena kept Bernie’s gaze as she lowered her head again, kissed her right over that distended bud. So gently though, just a kiss. Bernie closed her eyes, head falling back from where she had lifted it to look at Serena. A hiss from her own lips. A squeeze of her hand.

 

Serena moved her head back and forth again, feeling Bernie’s thighs tense again, feeling herself moan in response. She pre-empted an achy neck and lifted Bernie’s thigh upwards, feeling Bernie understand and tilt her hips upwards, giving her much better access. She rested as comfortably as she could on her elbows, fingers still between Bernie’s, and moved downwards, towards Bernie’s entrance, flicking her tongue out a little to taste and finding  cool wetness there. She flicked by Bernie’s entrance when she got there and pressed the tip of her tongue inside. Bernie gasped, and Serena felt the twitch against her tongue. She pressed again, left her tongue there a little longer, felt another twitch, a clench of the muscles there.  

 

“Serena.” It was a breathy promise, not a plea for more, or a bid for freedom from her touch.

 

Trailing her tongue and lips back up, Serena felt her confidence grow as she fastened her lips around Bernie’s clit once more, sucking a little, her head moving back and forth. She left her tongue back from Bernie’s sex, gave her a reprieve, allowed the arousal to build before any direct contact. She felt Bernie’s stomach muscles under her hand, tensing with each breath, her hips beginning to roll a little, not so much that she needed to follow her, or hold onto her. Serena hummed a bit and felt Bernie tense, a shuddery breath leaving her lips.

 

“Oh, Serena.”

 

Serena rubbed back and forth over her lower belly, soothing, reassuring. Bernie’s fingers disentangled from her own, hand still in hers however, thumb tracing patterns over her palm. Serena narrowed her eyes in thought and circled her head a little, listening to Bernie’s responding moan with understanding. She smiled against Bernie’s centre, closing her eyes for a moment. A secret language, then. This was something new.

 

Bernie continued to circle Serena’s palm with a fingertip, and after a while began to roll her hips properly, breath coming deeply, not quickening just yet. When Serena opened her eyes she looked up to find Bernie’s palm sweeping her own breast, thumb brushing her own nipple. She found it amazing, a true turn-on and completely adorable, that Bernie felt comfortable with her, that comfortable, especially after all they had been through. She felt a small lump in her throat but pushed it away. Sentimentality could be dealt with later. She was enjoying herself far too much right now to get all weepy over Bernie touching herself.

 

Serena felt a change against her palm, Bernie’s thumb pressing into the fleshy part of her hand by her thumb, felt a change in the tightness of Bernie’s stomach muscles. She looked up once more and took in the flush over Bernie’s chest, the way her hand had left her breast, the back of it now over her eyes. She concentrated back on what she was doing, deciding to flick her tongue out, touching Bernie’s clit just gently. Bernie moaned her name, faintly, like she didn’t want to make much noise but couldn’t help it. Serena repeated the motion, relishing in the push of Bernie’s pelvis against her mouth.

 

Serena began to flick at Bernie’s clit in a rhythm, still very gently and quite slowly. Bernie’s breathing sped up at the increase in sensation, felt every texture of Serena’s tongue against her, felt her hips push up involuntarily. She stilled her own hand, fingertips just pressing against Serena’s, trying to communicate how wonderful and tingly it felt. She could feel her chest heaving, her hips rolling with every sweep of Serena’s tongue, every suck of her lips.

 

Bernie reached down and flung the duvet from her waist, it was too hot, she was all sweaty and knew Serena probably felt the same. She felt rather than heard Serena’s hummed chuckle against her sex and stretched back a bit, fingers sinking into the bed sheets. She noticed that Serena was naked, her bare shoulders brushing underneath her thighs. She definitely had not gone to bed naked, she must have shed her pyjamas at some point. Serena quickened the flicks of her tongue, which made Bernie moan, and then started to press harder, causing a rush of renewed wetness and a gasp from Bernie.

 

“God.”

 

Serena kept up the pace, didn’t relent or give Bernie anytime to breathe. She closed her eyes and concentrated hard, focussing only on Bernie and Bernie’s pleasure. Her elbows dug into the bed and she was thankful of the brushed cotton sheets. She loved this, loved being here, making Bernie make these noises, rut up against her. She loved it and felt her own wave of heat between her own legs as she licked and sucked and caressed Bernie.

 

Bernie’s hand gripped her fingers a few moments before she tensed and Serena looked up at her, found Bernie looking back down at her with such dark eyes, before her head fell backwards and she groaned and came against her. Hips pushed upwards, over and over, and Serena held her steady but allowed her to move, to thrust through the waves of pleasure. She didn’t stop, until she felt Bernie’s hand in her hair, tugging a bit at the short strands.

 

“Serena.” This time it was a breathy plea, and as much as Serena wanted to stay between Bernie’s legs, mouth to her sex, forever, she gave her a last gentle kiss, pushed up and grinned up at her. Bernie allowed her hips to roll some more, aftershocks making her shudder, stretch back against the pillows. Serena leant against her thigh, rubbed the thigh warmly, smiled gently and watched as she twitched and then started to relax back into the bed.

 

Serena sighed out on a happy hum. Bernie blinked down at her, face breaking into a shy smile. She reached out with both hands and Serena knelt up before crawling up her front, wiping her mouth with her own hand before climbing over Bernie’s thigh and lying down by her side, pressing her lips to Bernie’s in a brief but heart-felt kiss. Bernie wrapped her arms around her, pulled her close, like she was trying to bury inside her, felt pressed into her shoulder. “Good morning,” Bernie whispered against her skin.

 

“Good morning,” Serena breathed back, happily, arm sneaking around Bernie’s waist.

 

“What a fabulous way to wake up,” Bernie murmured, pulling back a bit to look into Serena’s eyes and cup the back of her head. She pulled her in for a kiss and Serena kissed her back, hands at her waist and in her hair. They both chuckled against the kiss, wondered at the silliness of the thing, delightful morning sex. And the silliness of how new it felt for both of them.

 

Bernie touched Serena’s breasts carefully as they kissed and Serena chuckled, pulled back a bit. Bernie looked concerned for a moment, before Serena smiled coyly at her, took her hand in her own and led it down between her legs. Bernie understood immediately, as her fingers found Serena’s slick arousal. There was a gentle plea in Serena’s eyes and Bernie kissed her, fingers starting to smooth through her soft folds. Serena pressed against her hard when her fingers found her clit and started a firm caress.

 

The kiss broke and Bernie turned properly onto her side, sliding Serena’s thigh around her waist, touched her like that and relishing in the quickening of Serena’s breathing, and the small moan she made. Serena shifted to slide her arm under Bernie’s head and Bernie turned to press a kiss to her inner-arm. Serena smiled at her, Bernie smiled back. “I’ve never done that before,” Serena admitted breathily, wanting to say it, to share that.

 

“I know,” Bernie said simply. Serena shot her a flustered look. “Oh no, I’m not complaining. I just know you’ve not done that particular ... thing ... with me.”

 

“Ah. Yes.” Serena breathed out a sigh.

 

“Your technique, by the way, is impeccable,” Bernie continued. Serena barked out a laugh. “Must be all that talking you do. Well practised.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Serena huffed at her, before gasping as a wave of pleasure trickled over her.

 

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

 

“You really are ... terrible, Bernie Wolfe.”

 

“Terrible, hmm?” Bernie replied, shifting close to Serena and speeding up her fingers, pressing her a little more firmly. Serena groaned, gripped Bernie’s shoulder.

 

“Awful. Really.” Serena’s eyes half-closed, lips parted as she breathed a little faster.

 

Bernie watched Serena’s face, slipped her fingers downwards, pressed at her entrance and narrowed her own eyes a little in question. Serena gripped her shoulder again and Bernie took that as a request to continue, so slid two fingers into her, feeling the comfort within those soft but strong walls, crooked her fingers a little. Serena pushed against her, her hips beginning a rhythm against Bernie’s hand. Bernie bent her thumb up near Serena’s clit, so it bumped against her with every thrust and Serena started to pant, her hips rolling against Bernie’s hand.

 

Bernie stared in wonder at Serena’s expression, so delightedly happy and dark-eyed and in love.  She leant to suck at Serena’s neck for a moment, that patch of skin she remembered Serena liked, right below her ear. Serena moaned and Bernie grazed her teeth against her skin, causing Serena to gasp. “Oh Bernie,” Serena breathed, and Bernie pulled back to look at her. “That feels ... Oh God, it feels ...” She was grasping the back of Bernie’s head and then pulled her hair a little, pulled her downwards.

 

“D’you want me to ...?” Bernie didn’t need to finish the sentence, Serena knew what she meant.

 

“Yes please,” Serena said, a little anxiously, eyes flicking down and up, hopefully.

 

“Of course.” Bernie smirked and Serena breathed out a laugh. “Anything you like.” She removed her hand and Serena felt the loss.

 

Bernie shifted down the bed, kept on her side and settled Serena’s thigh round her neck. This they had done before, Serena mused, although not exactly like this, on their sides. She briefly hoped she wasn’t crushing Bernie’s ears. And they hadn’t done this since ... not this year anyhow. All thought left her, however, when Bernie’s tongue touched her clit.

 

Bernie knew she didn’t need much, knew Serena was close, so she rolled and flicked and rubbed her tongue against that bundle of nerves, down one side a little, up the other, back to her clit. Serena’s groans became regular, her hands in Bernie’s hair, hips rolling with each breath. Bernie reached and slid back inside her with two fingers, feeling the jolt of Serena’s hips as she did, beginning a rhythm that Serena chose eagerly, with her hips. She was so wet, so delicious, Bernie wanted to tell her, to say the words, but her lips were otherwise occupied. Serena’s moans became constant, with every breath, and the intensity of her hold on her hair increased.

 

When Serena growled, Bernie knew what was coming, held her fingers inside her and crooked them, pressing against that place inside her, wiggling her tongue so quickly. Felt the gush of wetness, the press of Serena’s thighs round her head. Serena shook with her orgasm, gasped, held her breath. Her hands squeezed tight in Bernie’s hair, then softened, then relaxed. Her thighs went loose as well, Bernie rested against the lower one, a soft pillow (although she’d never voice that opinion to Serena directly), and felt a little breathless herself.

 

Serena was quiet for a while, just breathing, eyes closed, the occasional aftershock twitching her hips. Her fingers were still knotted into Bernie’s hair, and she flexed them a moment before tugging. “Come back up ...” She couldn’t talk anymore, her throat felt hoarse and she didn’t have the energy. Bernie smiled affectionately at this, complied by crawling back up, settling between Serena’s legs, still lying on their sides, sliding her arms around her, allowing her to bury into her neck. “God,” Serena exhaled.

 

“S’alright,” Bernie cooed, squeezing her. “You just have a little sleep.”

 

“Mmm,” Serena sighed, and Bernie felt her whole body go floppy in her arms and around her waist. She held her close and smiled. It wasn’t that late. They could sleep an hour or two.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

Serena woke, buried nakedly against Bernie, hands against her chest. Comfortable, except for the sticky sweat (and other bodily fluids) that had gathered between them where they touched. She glanced at the clock, trying not to wake the snoozing blonde. Only ten. Not too bad.

 

Whilst disentangling herself from the long limbs of Bernie Wolfe, Serena woke the blonde. Bernie’s face broke into a slow smile and Serena returned the smile with tenderness. “Oh my word,” Serena murmured as Bernie pulled her back against her, kissing her lips lightly.

 

“I wanted ...” Bernie was blushing a bit, but ploughed ahead bravely. “To tell you. How amazing you taste.” She bit her lip, regained some confidence. “But you fell asleep before I could.”

 

“Well, I do apologise,” Serena exclaimed cheerfully. “Must have been the fantastic orgasm. Could barely manage a sentence.”

 

“D’you blame me?” Bernie asked shyly, teasingly.

 

“I do blame you,” Serena said, kissing her again. Their smiles became soft, loving. Another kiss, gentle and slow. “And I’m aware I have nothing to compare it with, apart from your increasingly good bolognaise sauce, but ...” Serena dropped her head, looked away, smiling. “You taste wonderful as well.”

 

Bernie squeezed her and Serena took a deep, cleansing breath. “Always good to know,” Bernie murmured. Another shared and sweet smile. Then Serena shifted uncomfortably, a small grimace on her face.

 

“I feel very gross,” she admitted.

 

“Shower?” Bernie asked, hopefully and almost innocently.

 

“Better share one. Save time.” Serena winked before pushing herself onto her knees, her joints cracking. Bernie smiled, amused and Serena held a finger out. “And if I hear one word from you about the age of my bones, I won’t let you help with the garden anymore.” Bernie drew a line across her lips, indicating they were sealed. “Come on then, Darling. Let’s not waste anymore of this lovely sunny day.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

It wasn’t sunny, as it turned out, of course it wasn’t. Their instinct (and Serena’s extensive attention to the weather forecast) had been correct – rainstorms all day. Bernie pouted through the kitchen window as she waited for the coffeemaker to finish doing its thing, the massive droplets on the window pane flowing like little rivers. She sighed as she felt Serena step up to her back, both of them in fresh day clothes (leggings for Bernie, jeans for Serena). Serena, as always, had taken a bit longer to get ready. Bernie had just run a comb through her hair and scraped it up into her tiny ponytail. She’d watched Serena for a while, drying her hair with a brush and hairdryer, mousse and hair spray and products she didn’t even recognise. Then she’d padded downstairs and sought out coffee.

 

Serena rubbed Bernie’s arm as her other arm slipped around her waist. “It’s okay. The greenhouse is dry. And I have a few jobs for us to do in there today.”

 

“Do we have to?” Bernie asked, turning in Serena’s arms, an amorous look in her eye. Serena laughed, grasped Bernie’s hand as it filtered into her hair, kissed her palm.

 

“Bernie, honestly. Contain your loins.” Bernie pouted at her in jest and stepped back to the coffeemaker, as it did its ‘putput’ noise to indicate it was finished brewing. She gathered two mugs from the cupboard and poured, as Serena smoothed her back, then went to sit at the kitchen table. Bernie brought the mugs over. They sipped, hands warm around their mugs.

 

“So, do tell me what I’m in for today,” Bernie asked, eyes smiling over her mug and through the steam.

 

“Well, I have an orchid I need to repot. So you can help me with that. And we need to check the tomatoes for suckers.”

 

“Caterpillars?” Bernie asked, eyebrows furrowed.

 

“No, suckers. They’re ...” Serena pursed her lips in thought. “Little branches that ...” She pressed her forefinger and thumb together, wiggled her hand a bit. “They grow out of the main branches and ... suck energy from the plant. Tomato plants are usually covered in them, unless you pluck them out.”

 

“Oh.” Bernie’s voice expressed she was none the wiser, but that she was still motivated to learn. It made Serena smile at her fondly.

 

“Easier to show you, I expect.”

 

When they had finished their coffees, they put the mugs by the coffeemaker to use later. Serena disappeared upstairs to retrieve the orchid, which in Bernie’s opinion looked a bit wilted, and then they both made a mad dash out into the garden and snuck quickly into the greenhouse. Bernie pulled the door closed behind them and Serena shook her arms a bit, water dripping from them. The rain hammered noisily against the glass roof. Serena found she had to speak a little louder than normal so that Bernie could hear her.

 

She placed the orchid down on the shelf and crouched down by their four tomatoes (the other two having been delivered to Morven and Evie after Serena’s first shift back on AAU), grabbing the kneelers so their knees wouldn’t get dirty or sore. The structures made by Jason and Bernie encased the plants and supported them well, without them needing to be tied up with the cushioned ties Serena had bought at the same time as she’d bought the grow-bags. The plants were all around two feet tall, the top leaves at Bernie’s eye level as she knelt down next to Serena.

 

Serena held a gentle finger to one of the clumps of flowers, yellow like butter, open and bright against the dark green foliage. “They’re looking very happy in their little houses,” Serena complimented, and Bernie smiled broadly, teeth showing in a rare occurrence. “But look, here,” Serena said, finger prodding a thin branch, poking out between the main stem and another branch. “It’ll grow lots of these if we’re not careful. And they don’t do much, apart from stop airflow and get in the way. And take up energy from the plant.”

 

“They don’t produce more fruit if we leave them?” Bernie asked. Serena shrugged.

 

“I think they probably would, but more fruit doesn’t mean better fruit. The plant only has so much energy. Better to just let the plant produce four or five trusses.” She smiled at Bernie’s eyebrow raise of confusion. “Trusses – branches with fruit on.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“I’m guessing,” Bernie said, eyebrows down in thought. “Do they taste better if they only make a few fruit?” She bit her lip and explained her rationale. “More energy, more fructose, more water for the fruit.” She gestured up with a hand, looked hopefully at Serena and the brunette felt a huge pang of love and desperately wanted to hold her close and kiss her. But she refrained. Better to save that for later, otherwise they’d never get any bloody work done.

 

“That’s exactly right.” Bernie beamed.

 

“So, what do we do?”

 

“We pull them off,” Serena said, pushing her thumbnail into the base of a sucker and plucking it from the plant with a flourish. Bernie’s eyebrows flew up and she tried herself on another plant, finding it rather easy. She held up the sucker proudly and Serena smiled warmly at her, choosing not to verbally praise, but rubbed her arm instead.

 

They worked side by side, as was their habit these days and especially in the garden, taking off all the suckers they could find, some tiny, barely longer than Bernie’s little finger, some far too large really to have been left so long. Bernie took them one by one from Serena as she pulled them off, held them in a bunch in her hand as they worked. When Serena stood, knees cracking, to feed the plants, Bernie stood too and held out the large bunch of foliage and stalks, intending on asking where they should go. Serena looked at her though and grinned.

 

“Oh they’re beautiful, Bernie,” she said, pretending to be shy. “You shouldn’t have.”

 

Bernie chuckled and shrugged as Serena pressed a hand briefly to her own sternum, sighed contentedly, and then started to water their four tomato plants. “I could put them in a vase for you,” Bernie suggested, waving the bunch a little in the air, watching the leaves flutter and bounce.

 

“I think the compost heap is the best place for them.” Bernie looked outside, her nose wrinkled and Serena pointed to the trug by the door, with a knowing smile. “You can put them in there for now. We’ll empty it later.”

 

Bernie threw them in. When Serena had finished drenching the tomato plants, she watered the peppers too. And then the rosemary cuttings, now in their own individual pots, then the spinach. Bernie stared confusedly at the small seedlings. “They don’t look anything like spinach,” she said slowly. “Did we put in the wrong seeds?” She stepped back a bit, reached for the seed box. “Or are they a different variety?”

 

“No, that’s just how they start,” Serena explained patiently and a little amused. “Embryonic leaves, baby leaves. Like the tomatoes had first, before they got their true leaves. Look,” she said, touching a tiny spinach leaf that didn’t look long and thin, looked more like a spinach leaf should look, round like a tiny plate. “This one is a true leaf.”

 

“Can you eat the baby leaves?” Bernie asked.

 

“I have no idea. We can try when they get a bit bigger if you like. Do a taste test?” Bernie nodded, putting the clear box back in its place on the shelf. “Blindfolds may be needed.” Bernie looked at her and found a slightly mischievous look on Serena’s face. Bernie pursed her lips around a coy smile.

 

“Okay.” She smiled from under her fringe. Serena winked at her as she turned to search through all her little bags of different compost, most of which Bernie had yet to identify. Serena picked up a pink bag, already open but with only a small amount of its contents gone.

 

“Right. Orchid.” She looked a bit guilty. “I’ve been meaning to do this for a few ... well months.”

 

Bernie considered the droopy-looking orchid in its see-through pot. It had no stalk with flowers on (that much, Bernie did know about orchids) and roots coming out of the barky soil all over the place. In a few areas, the roots were sticking over the edge of the pot.

 

“Why do they need special compost?” Bernie asked, looking into the small bag that Serena lifted neatly onto the shelf.

 

“Well, orchids are special.”

 

“Yes I sort of knew that,” Bernie replied. “They’re very pretty.”

 

“I meant the way that they grow in the wild,” Serena explained. “Rather than in the ground they grow on trees.”

 

“On trees?” Bernie asked, confused.

 

“They sort of cling on,” Serena said, putting her left arm up and balling her fist, before clasping the fingers of her right around her wrist. “They’re not parasitic. They don’t draw energy from the tree at all. Just grow on a branch or wherever.”

 

“How do they get energy?”

 

“Now, come on Bernie. Surely you remember photosynthesis from school?”

 

“Well yes,” Bernie replied, a little defensively, but warmed a bit from that when she saw Serena’s affectionate expression. “Sunlight, plus water and carbon dioxide, equals energy and oxygen.”

 

“A-star for my favourite pupil,” Serena whispered secretly. Bernie laughed.

 

“I don’t quite understand how they get that up a tree, though,” Bernie continued, eager to learn and willing to listen.

 

“Well, C.O. two, obvious enough.” Bernie nodded. “Sunlight, they don’t need a huge amount of. Proven by the fact that this little guy has been behind a curtain since I moved in.” She sighed a bit and Bernie recognised the look in her eyes – sadness. “I admit I have been neglecting him because he used to belong to Ellie.”

 

Bernie rubbed her back for a moment. Serena took a deep breath and shook her head.

 

“Water, they get from rain, usually. Again, they don’t need a whole lot of it. Someone once told me to use only rainwater to water an orchid, but I can’t be bothered with all that. And despite his neglect, he hasn’t given up the ghost just yet. Tough little thing, really.”

 

“Oh,” Bernie replied, a new-found respect and appreciation for the plant in front of her. Despite having been clearly forgotten about, whether intentionally or not, the plant still had two strong leaves and an abundance of roots. “So, the compost is made of tree?” she guessed, trying to express that she understood that Serena felt sad, but that she’d like to learn more. Serena smiled, kissed her cheek softly, eyes a little wet. She wiped them a bit before delving her hand into the bag of compost. She brought out, as way of explanation, a handful of bark-like compost.

 

“Pretty much,” she replied.

 

They turned the orchid carefully out of its pot, spread the roots out gently. Fingertips brushed and Serena relished in the feeling that it never got old, doing things together like this. Their hands only occasionally touched during surgery, and she supposed that was different, as they both had different roles during a procedure, even one that took unexpected turns. Here, they were actually taking the role of the same person. It wasn’t a two person job, not really. But she liked sharing the gardening jobs with Bernie, especially those that used care and delicate attention, like repotting plants, or tending to tiny seedlings. It was like they were parents, with a large collection of expectant children, all hopeful to please their primary care givers by growing big and tall and doing what they were told.

 

For the first time in a while, this made Serena feel content.

 

Serena took her sharp knife from where it was hung up and began slicing off various roots. “He doesn’t need all of these,” she explained. Bernie nodded. Serena left the orchid on its side on the shelf and reached to sort through her pots, searching for a clear larger pot she knew she owned. When she found it she stood upright, holding it aloft and with jest. Bernie smiled at her. “I think he’ll be happier in this, what do you think?” Bernie nodded again.

 

Serena shook the orchid free of remaining bark and Bernie put a couple of handfuls of the new bark into the new pot. It smelt sweet and earthy and Bernie found she was relishing in gardening smells so much more than she expected she would have. She thought she wouldn’t be all that interesting in any of it, if Serena hadn’t been part of the experience. Serena lifted the orchid into its new home, and Bernie tucked it in with some more compost. Its big leaves hung over the edges of the pot. Bernie smiled tenderly at it. “He looks happy already,” she commented. Serena slid an arm around Bernie’s back.

 

“Good. Now. Let’s give him some water and scoot back inside with him.”

 

“Where’s he going to live?” Bernie asked carefully, eyes gentle. Serena sighed.

 

“I think I’ve neglected him far too much this year. I reckon, pride of place on the living room windowsill.”

 

Bernie just squinted a smile, leant her head against Serena’s shoulder for a moment, before straightening up and taking the orchid pot in both hands. “You get the doors, I’ll carry the VIP.”

 

“VIP?” Serena asked, hand on the door.”

 

“Very Important Plant,” Bernie said, like it was obvious.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*


	10. The Book Of Love (is really boring)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They harvest the fruits of the labour, and host a garden party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone that has joined me on this journey. I feel quite sad that it's come to an end, but I hope I've finished it off with something worthy of your praise. xxx
> 
> Thanks to BMPM who gave the some ideas for the very end.

September 2nd

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Jason was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop when his aunt opened the front door, home from work. She called out to him and Bernie jumped up from the sofa, where she was reading a magazine, to greet her in the hallway. Serena smiled and hugged her with one hand, in the middle of taking off her coat. Bernie kissed her cheek. “Jason’s really taking this lawn upkeep malarkey seriously,” Bernie murmured, not wanting him to hear. Serena raised her eyebrows.

 

“Really?” Bernie nodded.

 

“Come see.”

 

Serena kicked her shoes off, pulled on her slippers and they went into the kitchen. Jason was staring engrossed in whatever was on his laptop screen, clearly concentrating hard. “Afternoon, Jason,” Serena said, going to him to rub his shoulder and look over it at what he was doing. He shrugged her hand off, flapped his own hand in frustration.

 

“Auntie Serena, I need to focus. Otherwise I won’t complete it.”

 

“What are you doing?” Serena asked, interested, going to the coffeemaker to pour herself a cup. She leant against the counter and Bernie smirked at her.

 

“I am completing an Institute Of Groundsmanship Certificate in Turf Surface Maintenance.”

 

“A what now?” Serena asked, stepping back up to him to peer at the laptop. Bernie tried not to laugh, but when Serena looked up she could see affection in her expression.

 

“I’ve done so much research into lawn management, I thought it sensible to complete something formal, that I can actual put on my CV.” He smiled up at her, his eyes bright. “I’ve learnt so much in my efforts to be the best mower I can be.”

 

“You have been doing a good job,” Serena agreed, her hand on the back of his chair, remembering all the hours he had spent on the internet and at the library, reading all he could about grass and how to make it grow beautifully.

 

“It’s an eleven month course,” Jason explained, clicking on something on his laptop in a final way. He sat back and grinned. “But with my high IQ and ability to focus, I have completed it in three.”

 

“You are amazing,” Serena said, finally able to touch his shoulder again and give it a rub. He didn’t push her away this time, focus now on the kitchen and its occupants.

 

“He’s been sat there all morning doing the exam,” Bernie said, giving him the thumbs up. He returned the gesture.

 

“I’m going to turn the printer on,” he explained, pushing back his chair and standing. “And then I’ll be printing out my certificate.”

 

“Wonderful,” Serena said. “Cup of tea?”

 

He nodded. “Yes please.” He went towards the stairs and ascended. Serena grinned at Bernie, turning to put the kettle on. Bernie stepped up to her back and slid her hands around her waist.

 

“Hello,” she murmured, kissing the back of her head. Serena chuckled, placed her hands on top of Bernie’s.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Nice day?”

 

“Not bad. Made ultimately better in the last sixty seconds.” Serena reached to collect another cup, Bernie following her as she moved towards the cupboard, refusing to remove her arms. Serena chuckled again. “Have you, by any chance, missed me, Ms Wolfe?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Jason came back down, having turned on the printer, sat back at his laptop. Serena made him his cup of tea whilst he set up his laptop to print via wifi. Bernie finally let Serena go and went to sit across from him. Serena brought his tea over, set it on the table. He smiled in thanks, then concentrated back on his laptop. “Let me know when you’re done and I can discuss something with you,” Serena said, aware of his need to focus on just one thing at once. He nodded, eyes still on his computer.

 

After a minute or two, he cocked his head to one side, listening for the printer to begin its thing. He smiled, satisfied, at the whirring he heard, then opened another document, set that to print as well. Then another. He smiled in an excited way, then lowered the screen a bit, looked up at them both.  “Okay. I’m ready to talk now.”

 

“It’s harvest day today, is it not?” Serena began. Bernie and Jason both nodded. “And we all need to work together, as a team, and get everything in this afternoon, yes?” Bernie nodded eagerly. Jason looked worried. “What is it Jason?” Serena asked, good naturedly and half-knowing what his reluctance would be about.

 

“Most of the vegetables and fruit in the garden are covered in soil, and require physical effort to harvest.” He didn’t explain anymore, he didn’t need to. Both of them were aware of his aversion to getting dirty or exerting himself. Serena sighed gently at him.

 

“I have a suggestion,” Bernie said. “Either, Jason, you can harvest the potatoes and onions, where you wouldn’t have to go into the greenhouse, but you would run the risk of getting muddy, or,” she smiled at Serena briefly, “you can go into the greenhouse and pick the tomatoes and peppers.” She smiled at him. “The door has been open for a few weeks. It’s not as hot in there as you might expect.” She shrugged. “I spend a lot of time in there.”

 

Jason furrowed his eyebrows and considered his options.

 

“I would like us all to help, to be a part of this,” Serena explained, hands snug around her coffee mug. “We’ve all helped in one way or another so far, and it would be lovely to end it with us all together.”

 

“A proper team effort,” Bernie agreed, looking hopefully at Jason.

 

He looked between them. Then he nodded. “I choose the greenhouse option,” he said. “However, I will require some nitrile gloves.”

 

“Of course,” Serena agreed, lowering her head. “There’s a box under the sink.”

 

“And I will need to spend a few minutes researching the best way to harvest fruit of this sort.” Serena smiled.

 

“I would expect nothing less of you.”

 

“And,” Jason continued, smiling a bit more brightly at them, “I will need to take a thermometer into the greenhouse, to make sure the temperature doesn’t rise above something I am comfortable with.”

 

“You are in luck,” Bernie said. “There’s already one in there.” He gave another thumbs-up gesture and checked his laptop screen.

 

“I’m going to collect my printed documents.” His voice was secretive, and Serena eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t comment. He left the kitchen.

 

Bernie shifted to reach across the table and skim her fingertips over the back of Serena’s hand. “Sorted,” Bernie said, blatantly pleased with her own delegation abilities. Serena squinted a smile over at her, eyes soft.

 

“Thank you,” she breathed. Bernie shrugged.

 

“All part of the big macho army service.”

 

Jason returned, three pieces of paper in his hands. He held the first up, a self-satisfied beam on his face. Serena and Bernie clapped a bit, grinning at each other when they realised they had both started the applause without even planning it. Then Jason held up the second piece of paper. “For you,” he explained, handing it to his Auntie.

 

Serena took it, held it to read. “’Campbell/Wolfe/Hayes Residence Garden Facilities Manager and Best Mentor Award, Two-thousand and Seventeen’. Oh Jason, that’s lovely.” Serena laughed in surprise and pleasure at the slight ridiculousness of it. That Jason should make her a certificate for something she so thoroughly had enjoyed over the last few months. For Jason to acknowledge her work, and her teaching of Bernie. Jason held out the last certificate to Bernie. She took it, held it at arm’s length.

 

“Specs?” Serena asked, lightly, amusedly, as Bernie squinted and failed to read the swirly print in front of her. Bernie grabbed her glasses from the side, where they sat in the fruit bowl (for reasons Serena couldn’t fathom), perched them on her nose.

 

“’Campbell/Wolfe/Hayes Gardening Certificate, Level One, Two-thousand and Seventeen’.”

 

“Because Auntie Serena has taught you all she knows,” Jason explained. “And you don’t need a proper qualification for your CV. Because you’re a surgeon.”

 

Bernie laughed that honking goose-laugh and Jason continued to grin. Bernie came over and held out the arm that wasn’t carefully and treasuringly holding the certificate. Jason allowed her to hug him, an unusual occurrence for them both, although as Serena noted, they did seem to be getting more comfortable with physical contact as each day went by.

 

“Thank you,” Bernie said to him, quietly, heartfelt and sincere, which Jason recognised.

 

“You’re welcome. Do you like them?”

 

“We do,” Serena replied, nodding, holding hers aloft and proudly. “We shall have to frame them.” Bernie nodded her agreement.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Bernie was digging, again. A large fork in her hands, a bucket for the potatoes at her feet, and strict instructions to please not get too dirty and walk it all in the house from Serena. She was unearthing potatoes, medium-sized and oval-shaped, from the vegetable patch. The sun was warm but not hot, she was covered in sticky suntan lotion. A grey worn vest and her gardening jeans.

 

She looked into the greenhouse and caught the sight of Serena, scissors brandished in one hand and the salad bowl in the other, clipping spinach from the tray, ready for the salad tomorrow. Jason was carefully clipping bell and cayenne peppers from their plants, turning each fruit over and examining its colour, before collecting them all in a similar bowl.

 

Bernie was dirty. She was covered up to her elbows in clay-filled soil, it was smeared over her forehead where she’d pushed her fringe back, and her neck where she’d been bitten by an insect of some sort. The bucket was half full of potatoes, of similar sizes, and Bernie really was quite impressed with the yield. She didn’t realise that twelve seed potatoes could make so many edible ones. She was a bit disappointed by the size of them, however. She was planning on making a chilli con carne, to be eaten with baked potatoes, for the garden party. None of the potatoes she had found would be big enough for baking. Bernie was bent at the waist, looking at her potatoes forlornly.

 

Serena emerged from the greenhouse, a little red-faced. She walked along the path and patted Bernie’s backside on the way past. Bernie squeaked, turned to glare jokingly at her from behind her fringe. “Sorry,” Serena said, “couldn’t resist.” Bernie poked her tongue out. Serena scanned her eyes over Bernie’s muddy arms and raised an eyebrow at her. “How on earth do you manage to get so mucky after only five minutes?”

 

Bernie held her dirty hands out in a gesture of resignation. Serena chuckled, shook her head and took the bowl of spinach inside to wash and put in the fridge. When she returned, she stood a moment in the conservatory, Bernie unaware of her gaze as she took in that perfect bottom hugged by mud-stained jeans. Serena smiled, minding not one bit that Bernie was covered in manure and mud and clay. It was actually rather attractive, she thought affectionately. As Bernie stood up, she swiped at her forehead, leaving another smear of mud there. Serena chuckled, then rubbed her hands together and descended the small step out into the garden again, to help pull up the more delicate onions.

 

“See how they’re going yellow on the top?” Serena explained, kneeling down beside Bernie on her kneeler, on the earth that used to harbour potatoes. She pointed to each onion, and Bernie nodded. “That means they’re ready to pull up. Just ...” Serena grasped an onion by the base of its shoots and pulled. She shook it and the soil crumbled from it.

 

They worked side by side. Bernie kept turning her head to the side, fringe dropping over her eyes, to smile at Serena. Serena chuckled after a while and eventually shot Bernie an amused look. “Something you need help with, Wolfe?”

 

“Not at all. Just impressed with how very *clean* you appear to be.” Serena smirked.

 

“Well, unlike some, and I refused point blank to name names, I do not appear to attract dirt at every opportunity.”

 

“Hmmm,” Bernie murmured, eyebrow raised. “Well that is a shame. A real shame.” Serena felt smug and turned away.

 

“You can have a nice warm bath before dinner ... wow!” Bernie pushed her hard, to the side, and she fell unceremoniously into the vegetable patch, hand already occupied pulling up an onion and therefore unable to catch her from falling flush onto her side in the mud. Bernie put a hand to her mouth and snorted, a little horrified.

 

“Oh God, Serena, I didn’t mean to ...” And Serena grabbed her wrist and pulled her in as well. Good job the onions were mostly up and in the basket behind them. They rolled around a little, grappling, Serena getting the upper hand for once, hands firm on Bernie’s shoulders as she pushed her down into the mud, eyes shining and toothy smile on face.

 

They both were laughing loudly as Jason emerged from the greenhouse, neat boxes of peppers and tomatoes in his arms. They fell silent, looked at him with wide eyes and attempts at innocent faces. He regarded them with confusion and disgust. They were covered, above and beyond how mud-sodden Bernie had been after her potato digging up experience. “You can’t come into the house with that much dirt on you,” was all he said, looking them up and down judgementally, before striding into the house with purpose. Serena and Bernie tried not to laugh again until he was inside the house. They just about managed it.

 

Serena leant resignedly on one elbow in the mud, Bernie on her back next to her, chin to her chest as she attempted to keep her ponytail clean. “You alright?” Serena asked, pursing her lips around a smile. Bernie grimaced a bit.

 

“Think so.” She lay in the mud, knowing but not wanting to admit that her back would be agony if she tried to get up just then.

 

“You started it,” Serena reminded her, rubbing a hand over her own jeans leg so she could push Bernie’s hair back from her face. Her hand lingered. Their eyes locked. Serena broke the gaze, looked nervously around the garden, over the fence and then the wall on the other side. She smiled back at Bernie. “You do look rather lovely, all covered in compost.”

 

“Ha,” Bernie said, arm bending under her head as she gazed up at Serena. “Knew there was a reason I was here. Eye candy.”

 

“I’ve been having these ...” Serena blushed visibly, looked into the conservatory, conscious of Jason being just inside the house. She took a deep breath. “Day dreams, I suppose.”

 

“Really?” Bernie asked, gently.

 

“Fantasies, perhaps,” Serena admitted, feeling bolder.

 

“Fantasies?” Serena nodded. Bernie paused a moment, gave the brunette time to think a little. “I’d love to hear, if you want to tell me.” Bernie’s voice was tentative and her expression reflected this. She lifted the hand that wasn’t behind her head and touched Serena’s elbow. Serena’s fingers traced Bernie’s jaw, then dropped a bit, to her neck.

 

“You and I,” Serena breathed, smiling shyly. “Obviously, alone.” Bernie chuckled, took her hand, interlaced their fingers. “No neighbours. No Jason, he’s away or ...” Serena shrugged. She looked over at the fluffy apple tree, the small fruit starting to form. The trunk, small but strong, smooth bark. “Over there. Against the tree.” She flicked her eyes back to Bernie’s and blushed again.

 

Bernie squinted her eyes in a careful smile, squeezed Serena’s fingers in place of a reply.

 

“Sometimes when I’m out here sunbathing, it just sort of pops into my mind. How it would play out.” Serena chuckled a bit. “Silly, I’m sure.” Bernie shook her head.

 

“Not at all.” That smile was still there and it made Serena feel warm, more warm than the summer sun that shone down on them could ever make her feel. Deep inside, right in her bones and her internal organs, every rib feeling that sunlight shining from Bernie’s face.  She smiled back, squeezed Bernie’s fingers back too. “I think I like the sound of that,” Bernie murmured.

 

“The grass soft underneath us,” Serena whispered, wanting to catch Bernie and pull her into her imagination. “The tree strong, its branches shading us from prying eyes.” Serena swallowed. “Making love with you. The sun warm on our skin. Making us glow.” Bernie tugged on the hand in hers and Serena leant over her, gazing deep into her eyes, her eyebrows pushed down in want. Bernie felt her tremble a bit as she disentangled their fingers and cupped her cheek.

 

“I’d love that,” Bernie breathed and Serena gasped as their lips touched softy, her own hands sliding under Bernie’s arms and guiding her upwards to sit up.  Bernie make a noise of discontent as she sat up, her back screaming at her, but unwilling to let that be a real problem as she pulled Serena close and teased her lips with her own, tongue pressing and lips parting. They broke apart quickly and grinned at one another. “I’ll kill the neighbours and arrange a trip for Jason, you take your clothes off,” Bernie gasped, half-joking but, to Serena’s amusement, half-very-much-not-joking. A dark element in her eyes. Serena chuckled, kissed Bernie again, pulling the bobble out of her hair and combing her fingers through it. Bernie pressed against her, lips soft but insistent against hers. “Sod it, I want you right here,” Bernie managed as they came up for air again.

 

Serena sat back a bit and stroked Bernie’s cheekbone with her thumb, beaming smile on her face. “As lovely as that sounds, my dear, must I remind you that we added manure to this vegetable patch earlier this year?”

 

“What’s a bit of horse crap between friends?” Bernie said, pouting a bit, but a softer look in her eye. She sighed, smiled despite herself, looking down at both their bodies, realising that somehow they had managed to get even more muddy. “We should get up, shouldn’t we?”

 

“I think that might be best,” Serena agreed, kneeling up, putting a foot in the mud to push herself upwards. She held out a hand once she was stood up. Bernie looked at it, suspiciously. Serena frowned at her, concerned. “What?”

 

“My back,” Bernie admitted, slowly, quietly, half-sat up. Serena looked outraged and horrified.

 

“Oh God, Bernie, I’m sorry,” she moaned, a hand to her chest for a moment. “I didn’t think ...”

 

Bernie shrugged from her position, half-sitting in the vegetable patch. “Worth it for that little ... muddy make-out session?” Serena chuckled but her eyes looked so very apologetic, Bernie reached out a hand in acceptance of her previous offer. “I’ll be alright. Give me a hand.” They stood Bernie awkwardly, with many pushed-down noises of pain, and more heart-wrenched apologies from Serena. Once they were both vertical, Serena slid an arm around Bernie’s dirty back. Bernie actually blushed. “Thank you,” she hissed, wiggling her shoulders a bit, feeling the ache.

 

“You’re very welcome,” Serena said like it hadn’t been enough. “Definitely owe you a bath, though,” she said, and Bernie recognised it wasn’t a suggestion. Bernie nodded quickly, and they walked together, shedding as much clothing as was acceptable and appropriate before climbing the step into the conservatory.

 

Jason was in the living room and busy watching Countdown. Serena bent her head around the door as she cracked it open, wearing only a T-shirt, pants and socks. “We are a little ...” She grimaced and Jason paused the programme so he could focus on his aunt.

 

“You are wearing very little because you had to take off your clothes before coming inside.” She nodded. “Considering the circumstances and possible choices, you chose wisely.” Serena felt a bit like she was being told off and tried to look apologetic. “I will stay in the living room with the door closed whilst you clean yourselves up,” Jason stated. “How long do you think you will need?” He looked pointedly at Serena.

 

“Shall we say ninety minutes?” she asked. “Bernie also has a bad back. I’m going to run her a bath.”

 

Jason sighed like he had given up on them, shook his head in wonder. “I will stay in here for the next ninety minutes. Please send me a WhatsApp message if you need me.”

 

“Of course,” Serena said, nodding. “Thank you, Jason.”

 

“I won’t be hovering any more than usual this week,” Jason explained, turning back to the TV and holding the remote aloft, ready for his programme to resume. “So any more mess you make you’d better clean up yourselves.”

 

Serena bit her lip, backed out of the doorway and closed the door behind her. She snorted on her way to the kitchen, to get some pain killers, then moved back to Bernie, whom she’d left at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the banister. “We are in so much trouble,” Serena chuckled, indicating her nephew with a nod towards the living room. She held out the tablets and Bernie took them, swigging the small glass of water Serena also handed her.

 

“Thanks. I hope he’s not ... too annoyed with us,” Bernie replied, genuinely worried that he would be. Serena rubbed her arm gently.

 

“So long as we clean up after ourselves, I think we’ll stay in his good books.”

 

“Good,” Bernie sighed, taking the arm offered to her by Serena and allowing herself to be led upstairs.

 

Serena ran her a bath and Bernie undressed in the bathroom, carefully and slowly and with lots of hissed breaths and tightenings of her jaw. Serena stripped her T-shirt off then hopped downstairs with their dirty clothes. She returned back upstairs just as the bath was almost full. “I’ve put a wash on, thought I might as well.” Bernie nodded, sitting naked on the toilet seat, elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Serena placed a hand on her neck and caressed a bit with her thumb as they watched the water, swirling in the large bath that had, thankfully, come with the house. Bernie watched the bubbles and wondered what Serena had put into the bath. It smelled lovely, all floral and herby.

 

Serena leant to turn the taps off. “Oh,” she remembered, holding out her hand for Bernie to take, which she did, and helping the muddy blonde step into the warm water, “Jason said he’d give us an hour and a half, to, you know ...” Serena smiled a bit as Bernie lowered herself and hummed in pleasure at the warmth. “To get clean.”

 

Bernie smiled up at her and Serena kept hold of her hand as she lay back. Serena knelt on the bath mat in her underwear, forearm flush against the side of the bath, her chin atop the back of her hand. She gazed affectionately at Bernie, with a little sympathy for her pain in the back of her eyes. Bernie sighed a bit as her back felt soothed by the hot water, rested her arm along the side of the bath and slid her damp fingers between Serena’s where they lay. “I don’t think it will take us quite that long,” Bernie murmured, closing her eyes and trying to relax.

 

“Depends on how long your back gives you jip for, I suppose,” Serena said. Bernie nodded, let go of Serena’s hand, folded her hands over her stomach.

 

They stayed like that for a while, Bernie with her eyes closed and Serena tenderly watching her as she languished in the warm sweet-smelling water. Serena felt her gaze straying a bit, flitting downwards to Bernie’s breasts, which rose a little in the water. Nipples tight as they peeked out from the surface and the cooler air of the bathroom touched them. She’d never watched Bernie in the bath before, Bernie wasn’t usually the type to have baths, usually spending five minutes in the shower rather than enjoying herself. Bernie had told her once that a hot bath was good for her back, however, hence her insistence for Bernie to accept the small luxury.

 

Eyes trailing down a little further, the smooth skin of Bernie’s abdomen under the water, the light breaking the surface and reflecting off her skin. The shadow of her navel as it dipped, then the swell of her lower tummy, the dark hairs below that, lighter than her own but not quite blonde. She smiled. This was such an innocent picture before her, Bernie in her all-together, touched here and there by the afternoon light shining from the window. Steam winding around them, fogging up the mirror over the sink.

 

After a deep sigh and a slight stretch, Bernie blinked her eyes open and caught Serena gazing at her legs. She smirked. “Enjoying the view, Campbell?” she asked, with good humour. Serena smiled back, nodded.

 

“How’re you feeling?” she asked.

 

“Not awful,” Bernie said, pushing up a bit and rolling her shoulders. She screwed her face up. “Not perfect.” She looked up at Serena with hopeful eyes. Serena beamed.

 

“Let me wash your back,” Serena said, a hand going to Bernie’s glistening shoulder. “And I’ll give those muscles a rub too, while I’m at it.”

 

“Okay,” Bernie breathed, shifting a bit as Serena stepped out of her underwear and unhooked her bra. She chuckled a bit. “You really are just as muddy as me, you know.”

 

“Hush,” Serena said, remaining amused. She stepped over into the bath and slid into the water behind Bernie. Bernie watched her over her shoulder. “Anywhere specific you want me to concentrate on?”

 

“Between my shoulders,” Bernie replied, watching Serena squirt some lemon-smelling shower gel onto her hand. She felt Serena’s feet slip either side of her hips, calves following them, encircling her as the water encircled her. Knees up under her arms, as Serena moved a little closer.

 

“Tell me if the pressure is too much.”

 

“I will.”

 

Serena’s touch began slow and soft, just rubbing in the shower gel really, washing away the smears of grime and mud from the skin of her back. Bernie leant forward against her knees, arms wrapping around her legs, eyes closing. She had to admit it to herself, any time Serena touched her she felt better. She was no osteopath or chiropractor, but Bernie’s muscles seemed to respond to her touch. Ever since she’d touched her that first time, last year, when Bernie had moved into the tiny flat across town.

 

Bernie heard Serena sigh, thumbs starting to dig into her aching muscles. Bernie sighed right back, feeling the initial discomfort (and groaning it softly into the steam), and then the release that came soon afterwards, her muscles relaxing and ceasing their cramping. The tension drifting into the water and then dissipating with the hot steam. She sunk a little further forward as her back relaxed, and Serena noticed, and leant forward to press a kiss against her neck. “Alright?” Serena whispered, rinsing the shower gel from her skin, arms snaking around her waist and hands resting on the outside of her thighs.

 

“Mmm,” Bernie murmured, feeling like she was coming out of a trance. “I love you,” she murmured and Serena chuckled.

 

“Oh sweetheart, I love you too.” Serena pulled at Bernie’s shoulders, pulled her back against Serena’s front, as Serena sunk backwards in the water and leant against the bath. Bernie sighed, her head dropping back against Serena’s shoulder.

 

“Magical hands,” Bernie sighed, smiling and catching her gaze, feeling Serena’s palms tracing little patterns around her navel. “You make plants grow, I swear you’re some kind of magical being.”

 

“I could say the same thing to you,” Serena breathed into her ear, kissing the top of it, then behind it, where her hair was swept back from her neck. “You’ve definitely helped with the growing of things.”

 

“Hmm.” Bernie chose not to argue, but settled warmly back into Serena’s arms and closed her eyes.

 

They lay together in the hot water until Bernie noticed her fingertips starting to prune. Then they staggered out of the bath, and Bernie wrapped a towel around Serena, rubbing her side through it. Serena smiled at the gesture, then looked at the clock on her phone. “Forty-five minutes until Jason comes to check we’re not in a muddy mess somewhere.”

 

Bernie laughed and grabbed a towel too, wrapping herself up in it. “Better get dried and dressed then.”

 

“How’s your back?” Serena asked affectionately. Bernie turned this way and that, bending one way then the other.

 

“Okay,” she replied, surprise evident in her expression.

 

“Ibuprofen must have kicked in,” Serena commented, impressed.

 

Bernie walked past her as she opened the bathroom door and hissed: “Magic hands,” into her ear. Serena laughed, followed her out and into the bedroom.

 

They dried quickly, hung their towels in the en suite, then set about getting clean clothes out to wear. Serena made a neat pile on the bed and was about to turn to sit on the edge of it and begin to dress when she felt hands sliding around her waist, a nose in the back of her neck. She stretched back, and suddenly her body was alight with want and Bernie’s hand was on her breast and she gasped. Bernie’s voice hummed low in her ear. “Close your eyes.”

 

Serena did so, hand atop the back of Bernie’s on her breast, head falling backwards onto Bernie’s shoulder, like Bernie’s had in the bath, onto hers. “Surely we haven’t got time,” Serena breathed and felt Bernie’s hands turning her to face her, she opened her eyes.

 

“Keep them closed,” Bernie requested, cupping her cheek. “Can you feel the grass under your feet?”

 

“What?” Serena asked, voice breathy as Bernie dropped her lips to her shoulder and ran her tongue in a long sweep up to her neck.

 

“The grass. Can’t you feel it under your feet?”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“Well,” Bernie began, and Serena could hear the shyness in her voice. “There’s no way you’d let me make love with you against the tree in the garden. We do have neighbours, after all.”

 

“Hmm,” Serena murmured, keeping her eyes closed and sliding her hands around Bernie’s neck to cup her head and encourage her to kiss her neck some more. Bernie obliged, then bit her gently. Serena gasped, pushed her hips against Bernie’s.

 

“So I want you to imagine it,” Bernie said, tongue soothing the patch of skin she had bitten, before she took Serena’s hips with her hands and guided her gently to what Serena assumed was the en suite door. The wood behind her back was smooth, warm. Serena leant against it and filtered her fingers into Bernie’s hair.

 

“Really?”

 

“Unless you don’t want to,” Bernie suggested, and Serena smiled, kept her eyes closed but caressed Bernie’s cheeks with her thumbs.

 

“I can feel the grass under my feet,” Serena whispered, and Bernie bent close to her, capturing her lips with her own, pushing her knee between Serena’s and pressing her against the door.

 

“And the tree against your back, the breeze against your skin?”

 

“Yes.” Bernie lowered her head and kissed Serena’s neck again, hand gripping her under her thigh, lifting it round her waist.

 

“Can you hear the birds singing?” Bernie asked against her throat, and Serena felt the push of Bernie’s thigh up between her legs and moaned quietly.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And can you feel the sun on your shoulders?”

 

“Yes.” And she could. They were naked and they were outside and Serena could see the garden around them and they were alone and it was perfect. Bernie’s thumb brushed against her nipple and she stretched back against the door, pushing her hips against Bernie’s, eager for some friction between them. Bernie held her under the knee, started to roll her hips so that her thigh pressed snugly between Serena’s legs. “Oh,” Serena gasped, rocking her hips against her.

 

“We’re up against the apple tree,” Bernie breathed, lips still against her neck and shoulder, fingers creeping under Serena’s lifted thigh to press at the wetness between Serena’s legs. The angle was all wrong but Bernie didn’t care, she found Serena’s entrance and just allowed a fingertip to press inside. Serena’s hips jolted and she gasped again, leaning heavily against the door. “It’s so warm and sunny, Serena,” Bernie whispered, “I love being out here with you.”

 

Serena couldn’t find words anymore, the warmth between her legs was starting to gather, and every push and thrust of Bernie’s hips pressed against her centre made her ache deliciously. In her mind’s eye, the branches swayed above them, the grass glowed beneath them, and all the bright colours of the flower border around them made her feel vibrant all over. Bernie was panting too, and Serena slipped a hand between them and pressed at her wet sex too, causing Bernie to moan against her neck.

 

They shared a long, deep kiss, no longer needing words between them. They swam in the fantasy, it enclosed them both in its colourful and safe bubble. Bernie closed her eyes too and they kissed and kissed, and thrust against each other. Bernie felt Serena tense a little, opened her eyes to find Serena’s eyes open and her face in a grimace. Bernie stopped moving against her immediately, her face concerned.

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“Lay me down in the grass?” Serena asked, panting. “I can’t stand up anymore.” They smiled at one another sheepishly. “Is that okay?”

 

“It’s your daydream,” Bernie replied and they knelt on the soft carpet (relatively new, since Serena moved in), and Bernie held her waist and neck, lay her down. She knelt above her. “How’s this?”

 

“Perfect,” Serena breathed, reaching up for her with one hand, whilst the other slid between her wet folds. Bernie shivered a bit, gazing down at her with lowered lashes. She pushed her thigh between Serena’s again, this time being able to lift Serena’s thigh properly around her waist, no worry about her needing either leg to stand upon. Serena, in response, pushed her thigh between Bernie’s, used it to push her hand firmly against Bernie’s sex. Bernie lay properly against her and began a slow roll of her hips again.

 

They simply lay like that, Bernie leaning on her elbows, thrusting down against Serena, Serena arching her back and sliding her hand back and forth. Serena didn’t mind the hard floor beneath her, it was refreshing, to have something other than a bed underneath her as they made love. Nearly as good at the grass she could still imagine tickling her heels and her shoulders. They kissed slowly, lips keeping pace with their hips, under Bernie needed air and Serena reached with her free hand to push back Bernie’s hair from her face. “Can you feel the sun on your back?” Serena asked her. Bernie nodded, stomach muscles tensing, breath coming out in pants, the occasional moan leaving her throat. Their hips sped up, Bernie turned a little so that her hip was sliding against Serena’s clit and the difference in pressure made Serena moan.

 

Serena hugged her with her thigh, pulled her in tight to her, then opened her own legs as wide as she could. Bernie’s hipbone hit and rubbed at her clit just perfectly, again and again, and she held herself still, not wanting to change anything, feeling the carpet, no the grass, rubbing her back as Bernie thrust her hips over and over. She felt it begin, felt it blossom, like a fluffy rose, pale pink and then deeper and deeper and finally a burst of red, hot perfect pleasure between her legs and tingling all over her body. She breathed Bernie’s name like a prayer as she came, canted up her hips, seeking more pleasure, then feeling the orgasm dissipate as she felt Bernie go still. She just fluttered her fingers against Bernie’s clit, opened her eyes to watch the beautiful blonde-framed face above her, and then Bernie followed her, dropping down against her, lips crushing against her shoulder and a long low groan rumbling against the carpet.

 

Serena laughed breathily, relaxing against the carpet, pulled her hand from between them and ran her fingers up and down Bernie’s back, soothingly. Bernie was still twitching against her and Serena pushed her thigh gently upwards where it lay between Bernie’s legs. Bernie gasped, rolled her hips once or twice, then stilled, pushed up on her elbows again, the rest of her body feeling heavy.

 

They smiled at one another, lazy and slightly shy smiles. Serena lifted her hands to touch Bernie’s face. Bernie dropped her lips to Serena’s and they kissed gently, thighs still between legs and hips still shifting this way and that. When the kiss broke, Bernie looked sheepishly at the brunette underneath her. “Are you okay?” she asked, wanting to move, to take her weight from Serena’s pelvis, but not feeling physically able to just yet.

 

“I’m very well,” Serena replied, back of her fingers sweeping down Bernie’s cheek. “And, thank you.”

 

“For what?” Bernie asked, sincerely befuddled.

 

“For you rather fruitful attempts to fulfil my fantasy.” They grinned at one another and Bernie kissed her again. 

 

“Fruitful, hmm?” Bernie said, teasingly, finally managing to gather the strength to push up and off Serena, a couple of cracks as their joints creaked. Serena laughed.

 

“Goodness,” she exclaimed quietly, in reference to the noises, but then her face softened. She took the hand held out by Bernie and allowed her to help her up. Her knees were weak and wobbly. “Fruitful, indeed,” she whispered, excitedly. “I felt like I was right there, in our garden.”

 

“That was the ... purpose of the exercise,” Bernie replied. Serena pressed her lips together and nodded.

 

“Well, it certainly was ...” They just grinned at one another. “You’ll have to tell me about one of your fantasies at some point.”

 

Serena pointed towards the en suite and Bernie nodded her contentment, watching Serena open the door, step behind it, leave it open a crack so that they could still talk. Bernie heard the tap running in the sink, then heard Serena dip in and squeeze out a flannel. “Ah, you see, my fantasies aren’t as detailed as yours, I think,” Bernie explained, standing with her arms folded, awaiting her turn in the bathroom.

 

“Really? I would have expected your imagination to be very vivid.” Bernie could almost heard the smirk in the voice. “Especially after that little ... session.”

 

“Session?”

 

They both snorted in laughter and Serena came out, fresh and dry. Bernie took her place and Serena started to dress. “Well whatever you’d like to call it.”

 

“How long do we have left?” Bernie asked, pulling the plug and pushing the door open, a hopeful look in her eye. Serena did the button on her clean trousers and looked towards her clock.

 

“Five whole minutes. Just enough time for you to get dressed.” Serena flicked her eyes upwards. “And do something about your hair.”

 

Bernie looked in the mirror over the dresser and laughed. “Christ.”

 

Serena threw her underwear at her, and Bernie pulled on her pants, then bra. She dragged a brush through her hair. They smiled knowing smiles at each other, dressed fully, then sat on the bed for a moment, side by side.

 

“I’ll start dinner if you go collect our potatoes and onions from the garden,” Serena said.

 

“Alright.” They grinned stupidly at one another again, and Bernie took Serena’s hand. “I know I’ve said this before, but thank you for including me in the gardening.”

 

“You’ve been such a wonderful help,” Serena replied, turning Bernie’s hand over in hers and running a fingertip over her palm and wrist.

 

“I have tried my best,” Bernie said, hoping she’d done enough. Serena squeezed her fingers. “And it looks so beautiful out there.”

 

“I’m very glad that you’re here,” Serena whispered, leaning her cheek against Bernie’s shoulder.

 

“Thank you for inviting me to live with you,” Bernie murmured against her hair. They sighed. They stayed like that until Jason loudly informed them both that their time was up and that he had already set the table for dinner.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The next morning, they were all up early. Serena put Jason to work slicing onions and peppers, whilst Bernie chopped some of the potatoes into bite-sized chunks, to make a potato salad. Serena had bought some baking potatoes the day before, in full knowledge that their Maris Pipers would not be big enough to bake (but would be lovely in a salad). The remaining potatoes had been washed and stored carefully in her kitchen cupboard, ready for use over the coming weeks, as wedges, roasties and mash.

 

Serena prepared the green salad with the spinach from their greenhouse. Jason wore a pair of nitrile gloves (from the box under the sink), and was halving the sungold tomatoes, carefully dropping them into the bowl with the spinach and shop-bought cucumber. The chopped onions went into the wok, sizzled away, and then chillies were next to slice. “Do not touch your eyes until you’ve washed your hands,” Serena told Bernie sternly. Bernie smiled affectionately at her. Jason grinned at them both – he always found it funny when one of them told off the other.

 

Once the chilli con carne was bubbling away, the salad ready to be dressed for lunch, and all the meat ready on trays and wrapped in cling film, Serena filled the kettle and boiled it. She and Bernie sat at the table, Jason made them drinks. “So, Fletch and the kids, and Essie and Sacha, and the lovely Celia, are coming for lunch. And then the girls, Raf and Ric for the evening.” Bernie ticked their guests off on her fingers.

 

“And Cameron,” Jason said, pouring their drinks, going to the fridge. He rearranged some of the trays, to his preference, then took the milk out. “And Charlotte, after she’s finished uni.”

 

Bernie looked at Serena with large, careful eyes. Serena hadn’t seen her children since Elinor’s death. Serena had soft eyes when she looked back at Bernie. She smiled a little, nodded, knowing where Bernie’s thoughts lay. Bernie nodded too, a movement of understanding, and an expression of how proud she was of her partner. Jason plonked their cups of tea in front of them, jolting them out of their silent exchange.

 

“I’ve not seen Cameron for ages,” Jason complained, but looked happy. “I wonder if he has been keeping up with our football team.”

 

“I expect so,” Bernie told him, amused. She sipped at her drink.

 

“I’ve not been able to tell him about the lawn, and my qualification,” Jason continued, sitting across from Serena at the table. “And neither of them have seen the garden, Auntie Serena.”

 

“Today will be more than just a garden party, Jason,” Bernie explained. “It’s a chance for you and your auntie to show off what you’ve spent the last few months doing.”

 

Serena reached and took Bernie’s hand across the table. They shared a love-filled smile. Jason looked between them. “Will we be sitting on the grass?” he asked.

 

“Just the kids,” Serena explained. “Unless you’d like your own blanket with Celia.”

 

“We are not exclusively a couple,” Jason explained. “We don’t need our own blanket.”

 

“Up to you,” Serena told him. He nodded, once.

 

“I will use the cushions we used when she came over for a picnic. I don’t mind sitting with the children.”

 

After they finished their tea, Serena lit the oven and Bernie went outside to collect the extra chairs from the shed. She came inside to grab a cloth, and wiped everything down. Then she spread a green spotty table cloth on the garden table, and set a little metal holder with a handle, filled with napkins and cutlery, in the middle of the table. There was a slight breeze in the air, which ruffled the edges of the cloth, but the sun was warm and Bernie didn’t think the table cloth would fly away. She looked into the conservatory, to the orchid they’d moved in there due to the sunnier position, and beamed. The first flower was open, a deep pink with white tips to each petal. Like the orchid knew it was a special day. Perhaps like Elinor was somewhere, hinting at the fact she was looking down at them. Bernie rolled her eyes at herself, shook her head. When had she become so sentimental?

 

She heard the doorbell go just as she was adding a little more water to the water feature, to bring the level to the top, heard Serena open the door, and hung the hose back up on the wall by the conservatory. She went into the house to find Essie and Sacha giving Serena the biggest hug Bernie had ever seen. Serena was laughing. “So glad you could make it,” she was saying, and Essie grinned as she saw Bernie.

 

“Hello,” Bernie said, and Serena led them to the kitchen for drinks, which they poured whilst they chatted. Sacha and Essie were in shorts and T-shirts, proper garden-party attire. Then they moved outside and Jason joined them. Introductions were made, as he rarely worked on Kellar. Jason seemed to warm to Sacha hugely and Serena smiled as they sat in chairs and talked man-to-man whilst Serena took Essie round the garden. Bernie followed them and blushed at the praise Serena bestowed upon her, for all the help she had given. She blushed even more when Serena introduced Essie to the water feature, which was bubbling away happily, and explained that Bernie had made it as a gift for her. Essie’s eyes shone and Bernie had to look away. She wasn’t used to being thought of as a kind and generous soul.

 

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell went again and Celia arrived, dropped off by her mother. Fletch and the children were close behind them, and they all filed out into the garden, the younger kids running about on the lawn and chasing one another. Evie gave Serena a cuddle and Serena pressed her face into Evie’s hair. “You been getting yourself into more trouble?” Serena murmured to her. Evie shook her head.

 

“No. What about you?” Serena laughed, squeezed her hard, Evie squeezed her back.

 

“Good girl.”

 

Mikey came up to Bernie and scratched his head in thought. “So you live with Serena now then?” he asked, trying to sort it out in his head.

 

“That’s right,” Bernie replied.

 

“Like Dad and Raf do?” he asked. Bernie tried not to smile as Fletch came into earshot and frowned at his son.

 

“Not exactly,” Bernie said, flailing a bit. “We’re a couple, Mikey.”

 

“Ah,” he said, looking very grown up and like he understood. “Not like Raf and Dad. They’re not a couple.”

 

“Right,” Bernie said, widening her eyes at Fletch who was quietly amused at the exchange.

 

“Naaa,” Mikey continued, kicking the floor in a serious and knowing way. “They ‘av different bedrooms.”

 

“Yes, I expect they do,” Bernie replied.

 

“D’you ‘av different bedrooms?” Mikey asked.

 

“No. We share a bedroom.”

 

“And a bed? Or, like, two singles?”

 

Bernie laughed a bit, incredulous but affectionate. She felt surprised at herself, actually, talking about it so openly. “We share a bed too, Mikey.”

 

“Ah. Yep. You gonna tie the knot or what?” Mikey asked.

 

“No, we’re not going to get married,” Bernie said patiently.

 

“Why not?” Mikey asked. “Don’t you love Serena?”

 

“I do,” Bernie said sincerely, nodding. “Very much.”

 

“That’s enough,” Fletch said, coming to Bernie’s rescue. “No more questions, mate.” Mikey sighed exasperatedly and walked off, following Theo and Ella in their hunt for the perfect butterfly. “Sorry,” Fletch said, grimacing a bit. “Reckon he’s at that age.”

 

“It’s okay,” Bernie said, cheerfully, watching the kids play. “They should know things like this. We should be open with them.” Fletch nodded.

 

Serena finished her tour with Essie and went inside to sort out the food. Bernie joined her and as Serena split the crispy baked potatoes, Bernie spooned chilli con carne out into a large bowl so everyone could help themselves. She called out of the conservatory and Jason came to help them carry bowls of food out. Salad and crisps and jugs of juice followed the potatoes and chilli, and they all collected a plate each and sat at various places in the garden. The kids spread out a blanket to sit on, and Jason and Celia sat on cushions with them.

 

Evie pulled another cushion over to sit near Serena and Essie. Serena smiled down at her. “How’s school?” she asked and Evie rolled her eyes.

 

“Alright. Susan Mitchell got suspended.” Serena raised her eyebrows at Evie attempt to cover a smile.

 

“Oh dear how terrible,” Serena replied, overly dramatic, putting her hands over her mouth in shock. Evie smiled and then laughed. “What did she do?”

 

“Caught smoking,” Evie said simply. She shrugged, then grinned again. “I may have mentioned where she was to our head of year.”

 

“Ha,” Serena barked, reaching to rub Evie’s shoulder. “Good for you. Hope you did that anonymously.”

 

“Yeah. Miss Barns, she’s cool. She said she’d never say anything.”

 

“How long will she be off for?”

 

“Another week.” They smiled at one another and Evie went back to focussing on her plate of salad, stabbing her fork through a tomato.

 

Essie speared one too and held it up. “One of yours?” she asked Serena. Serena nodded.

 

“Fresh from the greenhouse yesterday.” Essie smiled as Serena’s gaze flicked to Bernie, who was sat with Fletch, laughing at some story he was telling. Serena eyes became soft. “I’ve had a lot of help this year.” A pause as Serena looked down at her baked potato, pushed a few kidney beans out of the way idly. “Good job really. The garden was in a bit of a state when I moved in.”

 

“It looks amazing,” Essie said, gesturing with her tomato on her fork before popping it into her mouth. She made a noise of approval. “Must be something about them being home-grown,” she murmured round the fruit. “Best I’ve ever tasted.” Evie frowned in thought then ate one of her own tomatoes. Her face relaxed into amazement.

 

“Oh my God, she’s well right, Serena.”

 

“They’re Bernie’s tomatoes, really,” Serena explained, her fond gaze back on Bernie. Essie grinned at Evie and they left her to her staring, went back to eating their food.

 

Jason and Celia were sitting crossed-legged on the blanket. The kids were tucking into their crisps and baked potatoes, Mikey helping Theo eat his chilli without getting it all over his face. Ella was picking beans out one by one with her fingers. Jason watched her with interest. “You’re supposed to eat the chilli all together,” he explained. Ella looked up at him, bean half way to her mouth.

 

“But I don’t haves a spoon,” she said. Jason got up, placing his plate on the blanket and went to get her one. Sacha watched as he returned and handed Ella a tea spoon.

 

“This okay? Or do you want a big spoon?”

 

“Littles spoon is good,” she said, and started tucking in.

 

Jason sat back and took his plate, put it across his lap. Sacha smiled at Jason. “Have you ever considered working with children?” he asked, cutting up his baked potato with knife and fork. Jason looked at him, interestingly.

 

“No. I prefer adults,” Jason said simply. Sacha nodded.

 

“Ah. Fair enough.”

 

“I don’t mind these children,” Jason continued, pointing specifically to the three nearest. “However, most children, I find, cry a lot. And I’m not sure I know how to make children stop crying.”

 

“Yeah you’re right,” Sacha said, starting to eat. “Even with my children, sometimes I just didn’t know what to do.”

 

“I like children,” Celia said. “Mum’s a school teacher and sometimes I go and help out.”

 

“That sounds fun,” Sacha said kindly. Celia nodded enthusiastically.

 

“It is. Unless one of them falls over and then I take them to mum. I don’t like plasters.” Celia screwed up her face. Jason laughed a bit and they all fell silent as they ate. Mikey forked a gold-coloured tomato into Theo’s mouth. When he bit down, the juice and pips squirted at Mikey, who jumped up, wiping his face.

 

“Theo! Gross!” Everyone laughed.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The kids were packed into Fletch’s new Volvo with no hassle, the younger two already asleep at three in the afternoon, nestled in their car seats. Serena and Evie had a big hug again and then Evie turned to Bernie, threw her arms around her as well. Evie moved her face close to Bernie’s ear. “I know Serena probably don’t know that I know, but I’ve heard Dad talking to Uncle Raf, and I know you’ve been there for Serena. And I just wanted to say thanks.” Bernie squeezed the teenager back and patted her shoulder.

 

“You’re welcome.” Bernie’s eyes went squinty and soft, like she was feeling a lot. Evie recognised the look, having seen it a few times in the last few weeks, when Bernie had been at work and Evie had been visiting AAU.

 

“I don’t text my mum so much, anymore,” Evie admitted. “Sometimes I text Serena instead. I hope that’s okay.” Bernie was aware of this fact and an image of Serena’s smiling face when she’d received a text from Evie swayed past her mind’s eye.

 

“Course. She likes getting texts from you.” Evie smiled, nodded, shyly pulled away and clasped her hands, then got into the car, into the passenger’s side. Fletch got in too and they all waved them goodbye as he drove them away.

 

Serena sighed deeply as they went back inside, relaxing a bit after the chaos of the children, then filled the kettle with water ready for another cup of tea for everyone who wanted one. Bernie stepped up to her back, snuck her chin against her shoulder. Serena lay her hands over Bernie’s around her belly, relaxed backwards. They watched the kettle as it boiled. Bernie kissed her neck. Serena chuckled. “This was a good idea, wasn’t it?” she hummed, eyes closing for a moment.

 

“Definitely,” Bernie replied, squeezing her gently. Serena sighed out her contentment.

 

“Everyone’s having a nice time.”

 

“Yep.” Bernie kissed just below her ear and Serena squirmed a bit. “Think they’ll miss us if we sneak upstairs for a few minutes?”

 

“Probably,” Serena chuckled, turning in Bernie’s arms to kiss her on the lips, quickly, before pulling away. Bernie pretended to look upset and Serena rolled her eyes. “Honestly,” Serena said, pretending to be frustrated, but sounding more affectionate. Bernie beamed, pleased they were on the same page.

 

Essie came in, luckily after they had broken apart, and smiled at them both. “Hope you’re not hiding,” she joked, face alight with mischief. Serena looked astonished, then grinned.

 

“Just boiling the kettle. Tea?” Essie nodded.

 

“Then we’ll have to go,” Essie explained. Serena nodded.

 

“What time is your shift?”

 

“Both start at five. Pants shift really, when are you supposed to eat?”

 

“Oh, I’ll make you up something to take with you,” Serena assured her. “We have too much anyway.”

 

“Save it for the evening lot,” Essie said, graciously.

 

“We’ve got a whole other selection of food for those coming later,” Bernie said, amused. Essie relented.

 

“Actually, that would be great, thanks guys.” Bernie made six teas, face contorted in concentration as she struggled to remember how everyone took theirs. Serena spooned some leftover chilli into some Tupperware containers, grabbed a carrier bag from the drawer that seemed full of them, and handed the food parcel to Essie.

 

“Enjoy,” Serena said, with a wink. Essie thanked her profusely.

 

They all sat and chatted with their teas in the garden, Sacha moved to sit next to Serena on the patio, as Bernie went to sit in the lawn chairs by Jason and Celia, Essie followed her. Sacha placed a hand over Serena’s and she turned her fingers over to grip his. “You’re okay?” he asked her. She smiled genuinely, let him see the smile, before replying.

 

“I’m really okay. How’re you? Meds kicked in yet?”

 

“Not sure,” he said, smiling too but it not quite reaching his eyes. She squeezed his fingers.

 

“They take a couple of months,” she told him gently, she shook her head. “I remember when I was on Prozac in the US, it felt like forever before they had any effect.” He nodded, looked away towards Essie and Bernie.

 

“Things ... that I used to find good fun,” he said, trying to explain, “just ... don’t seem to be anymore.” Serena nodded, let him talk, didn’t reply or try to reassure. “I think I’ve created this persona, this jolly, happy, doctor that ... that always looks on the sunny side and is always smiling.” She nodded again. “It’s very difficult to keep that up, when you feel so black inside.”

 

“I know how that feels,” Serena murmured slowly. He looked at her, questioning her with his eyes. She nodded. She patted his hand, and they moved them away from each other, both sliding their attention to the small garden.

 

“I love your cone flowers,” Sacha said, laughing a bit through a tight throat. She smiled, chuckled a bit too.

 

“Thank you. I’m surprised you recognise the species, didn’t realise you were a gardening type of guy.” He laughed a bit more, gently.

 

“Chrissy was always growing things. The kids got really into it one summer.” He looked sad again and she placed her tea cup in the grass before rubbing at his arm.

 

“Now, come on, Mr Levy. None of this.” Her words were not unkind, and he found himself laughing properly for the first time in a while. “The sun is shining today and you have a whole thirty minutes before you must start work.”

 

“Yes, I know.” He smiled at her, this time it reached his eyes.

 

Essie and Sacha left an hour later, bags full of work-appropriate clothes, and with the carrier bag full of chilli con carne. Celia’s mother arrived, and seemed very pleased that she had had a nice time. Celia left Jason with a kiss to his cheek, which he seemed very pleased with as he waved.

 

They had thirty minutes until the evening guest would arrive. Bernie set about carefully and meticulously setting up the barbecue on the patio, piling coal over some fire-lighters and pulling a lighter from her pocket to touch the flame to the white blocks. She was pleased when flames grew and engulfed the coals, catching each piece in turn. She rubbed her hands together in satisfaction. She turned to Serena, gave her a thumbs up. Serena mirrored her gesture, beckoned her over to the lawn chair she was reclining in.

 

They were alone for a brief few minutes. Bernie knelt on the grass by Serena’s feet and felt Serena’s hand on her cheek as she leaned her chin in her lap. “I was thinking,” Serena began, feeling a little silly that this was even a conversation, but keen to hear Bernie’s opinion on the subject. “I’m aware my alcohol intake has been basically non-existent over the last ... since I left.”

 

“Mmm-hmm,” Bernie sighed, smiling with her eyes closed as Serena’s hand began stroking her hair behind her ear.

 

“I thought, perhaps, this evening could be the start of a new, less wine-adverse, Serena Campbell.”

 

Bernie hummed happily, half at her words, half at the way Serena’s fingers tickled her ear. Serena was looking down at her, eyes slightly unsure, questioning. Bernie lifted her own hand to clasp Serena’s fingers, bring them to her lips, kiss her knuckles. “If it’s what you want to do, I’m right behind you,” she replied, assertive and sincere. Serena squeezed her fingers back.

 

“Probably just ... half a glass.”

 

“We have a nice shiraz in,” Bernie said, lifting her head to look properly at her and flick her eyebrows up a couple of times, suggestion creeping from her expression Serena chuckled.

 

“Always well prepared,” she complimented the blonde, touching her cheek briefly, before standing from the lawn chair and holding out her hand to Bernie.

 

They walked together into the conservatory and Bernie suddenly pulled on Serena’s hand to make her stop, pointing at the orchid. Serena’s face lit up, eyes shining, and letting out a happy breath. “Oh look,” she said, reaching to touch the soft petals with her free hand, smiling affectionately and proudly at the plant, like it had chosen that very day to bloom. Bernie just smiled at her.

 

“You were right, it is beautiful,” Bernie said, tilting her head a bit, standing close by Serena as she turned the orchid pot a little to display the single flower.

 

“Certainly happier being in a bigger pot, I think. And with new compost.” Bernie nodded. They stood together a moment, Serena sliding her arm around Bernie’s waist, leaning her cheek against her shoulder. Bernie felt her sigh. She sighed back, feeling particularly content. They stood together like this a lot, looking at the flowers wave in the wind in the border, or watching birds on the feeder. Bernie standing strong, Serena leaning against her, but mostly them just being together, standing in a way they were comfortable, snuggled and affectionate. Bernie kissed the top of her head, checked the barbecue wasn’t going to set light to anything, and rubbed Serena’s upper arm.

 

“Glass of wine?” Serena nodded. They went into the kitchen and Serena poured a very small, very tentative glass of wine for herself while she watched Bernie open a bottle of beer. She sipped at the wine, allowing her tongue to get used to the taste, the kick, the flavour. It was sharp, but full-bodied. She closed her eyes, relishing in the familiarity. She breathed in a big breath, nose in the glass. Bernie tried not to watch her but failed, eyes gentle. When Serena opened her eyes again, she noticed Bernie’s gaze and they shared shy smiles.

 

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell went and everyone arrived. They’d all finished at five, rushed home, and managed to arrive together, although Charlotte would be another few minutes, she had explained in a text to her mother.

 

Morven and Raf and Jasmine and Ric with Cameron in tow. Mo was working a long shift. Matteo wasn’t quite close enough socially with anyone outside of his own ward. Dominic and Zosia had other plans.

 

Jac had just eyed Jasmine and walked off when she’d passed on the invitation from Serena, shaking her head. Jasmine had shrugged, knowing now what her half-sister was like, knowing now that she didn’t need the consultant’s approval, and that actually, Bernie and Serena deserved far more of her attention than Jac ever would. She’d settled in the knowledge that at least the atmosphere wouldn’t be tarred by Jac’s sarcastic comments about her, and actually, anything she could do to keep Jac away from Serena would probably be a good thing. Jasmine wasn’t sure Jac was still comfortable with Serena being back at work, after her intervention into their altercation. She didn’t want a scene, she wanted to protect Serena from that. Because she hadn’t managed to protect Serena from the grief she still felt partly responsible for.

 

Morven and Raf came in full of energy despite having worked all day, with tales of the ward and their influx of elderly patients. Ric stood back, arms full of bags full of clinking bottles, which Bernie took thankfully. Cameron hugged his mum, then Serena, before shaking Jason’s hand. The boys chatted immediately about their team. Bernie rolled her eyes as she watched them, putting the beers and bottles of wine on the counter in the kitchen. Everyone helped themselves to drinks, and carried them out into the garden. Bernie handed her beer to Serena and wrapped Serena’s apron around herself (a blue stripy one with ‘sexiest chef’ written in big swirly letters), ducking into the fridge to collect the chicken thighs, sausages and burgers on their individual, cling-film-covered trays. Serena led everyone into the garden.

 

Serena caught her nephew’s eye and nodded to him to help Bernie, and he stopped his conversation with Cameron, nodded his understanding. He left Cameron and went back into the house, to help Bernie carry out the food.

 

As Serena had been mostly in charge of lunch food, Bernie had taken on the responsibility of the evening barbecue. Serena had teased her about the macho-ness of it all and Bernie had flexed her arms and growled at her and Serena had laughed. “We used to do a fabulous grill when I was in Afghanistan, in the army,” Bernie told Jason as they walked outside and set the food down by her beer. She rubbed her hands together and put a palm near the glowing coals, checking the heat. She nodded in approval, before turning some burgers onto the hot grill.

 

“Did you eat burgers and sausages?” Jason asked.

 

“It was more local food. I used to do a lovely lamb kebab, marinated it in spices for at least three days beforehand.” She smacked her lips together, pushed her shoulders up in pleasured memory.

 

“That sounds hot. I don’t know if I’d like that.” He looked concerned.

 

“I’ll make it for you to try one day.” He nodded, watched as she shifted each burger forward a little with the spatula.

 

Morven wandered over with her glass of wine and smiled at Jason. “Hello Morven,” Jason said.

 

“Hello Jason,” Morven said kindly. “They look great, Ms Wolfe.” Having already had the conversation about names at their house, Morven blinked, smiled apologetically and said: “Bernie. Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” Bernie replied, amused. “Considering you’re dating my son ...” Morven ducked her head down and her big dark eyes wandered over to Cameron, who was joking around with Jasmine. “I assume from that look, it is going well?”

 

“Yes thank you,” she replied, shyly.

 

“The stories I could tell ...” Bernie smiled into the sun and Morven’s eyes widened.

 

“Um, I think I’d rather not hear childhood stories from my boss about my boyfriend.” Jason laughed and Bernie joined him. Morven relaxed a bit.

 

“I suppose that’s fair enough.” Bernie said. “So, anyway, I hear your day was interesting.” They chatted animatedly about Morven’s shift and Raf joined them to chat as well. Serena sat with Ric close to the apple tree, enjoying the sun, low in the sky, starting to catch the gorgeous meaty smells coming from further up the garden. Jasmine broke away from Cameron and wandered the garden alone, stood under the apple tree after having a look around and gazed upwards. She pointed into the branches, face excited.

 

“You have a nest,” she hissed at Serena, who stood quickly from the lawn chair and moved beside Jasmine. They both looked upwards.

 

“Oh goodness, how lovely,” Serena breathed, smiling in a pleased way at Jasmine.

 

“What d’you think they are?” Jasmine asked in hushed tones.

 

“I’ve seen blackbirds flitting in and out, I did wonder.” Serena lifted her chin to try to peer at the nest, too high above them to see into. “I’m sure any babies would’ve flown by now.”

 

“Nice to know, though,” Jasmine said carefully. Serena nodded.

 

“How’re things with Jac?” she asked, and Jasmine laughed a bit, rolling her eyes.

 

“I think I’ve sussed her out,” Jasmine said, nodding sincerely. “She’s being fairly civil to me these days.”

 

“Good. Sometimes it’s just about understanding where someone’s coming from, isn’t it?” There was a pause as they looked at one another. Serena broke their locked gaze and looked at the grass. Jasmine smiled kindly.

 

“It’s alright,” she said, reaching to rub Serena’s upper arm, not sure whether it was the right thing to do, but wanting to do something. Serena took in a deep breath and lifted her eyes back up.

 

“I really, really do feel very sorry, Jasmine.” Jasmine nodded, dropped her hand. She was used to this these days, and she knew that Ms Campbell would stop apologising when she was ready. Jasmine knew she felt she still needed to, even four months after the whole business.

 

“I know, Serena.” Serena raised her glass and Jasmine clinked her wine glass against it, they giggled a bit at each other, a little relieved.

 

“I hadn’t noticed your hair, hasn’t it got long?” Serena said, reaching up to twirl Jasmine’s ponytail with her finger. Jasmine just beamed.

 

Serena walked up the garden path to the barbecue, Jasmine following her. They left Ric lounging on a lawn chair, sunglasses on and head tipped back. Jasmine joined Morven and fist-bumped Jason when he held out his knuckles. Jason and Cameron strolled down the garden and Serena watched him pointing at the lawn and begin to chat about his responsibilities. Bernie was turning over the burgers, the first side of each well-cooked. “Anything I can do?” Raf was asking. Bernie looked around her and narrowed her eyes in thought.

 

“Actually, I’ve forgotten to bring in the bread rolls.” She pointed with her spatula into the house and he nodded, stepping into the conservatory. “They’re already buttered,” she called after him. He held up a hand of understanding.

 

The doorbell went and Serena hopped inside to answer it and let in Charlotte, who stepped into the garden brandishing a large bottle of cheap cider. “Typical student,” Bernie said affectionately, grabbing her daughter by the waist and hugging her.

 

“Mum,” Charlotte complained, pushing her away, but smiling. She smiled at everyone and joined her brother, Morven and Jason on the chair they’d reserved for her.

 

Returning from the house, Serena snuck up behind her beautiful blonde army spatula-wielding medic and hugged her around the waist with the arm not holding her own wine glass. Bernie turned and kissed her cheek, spatula in the air as there was a low whistle from one of the boys behind them. Bernie turned accusingly and Cameron pointed innocently at Morven, who smacked him, horrified, on the shoulder. Bernie shot them all a defiant look and turned back to Serena. “How’s the wine?” she asked, eyes narrowed in affection. Serena nodded, held up her glass, half the wine gone.

 

“Not bad. Good choice.”

 

“I’ve had it in for a while. Just in case.” Serena’s smile was soft, they gazed into one another’s eyes for a moment or two, the people and garden around them fading away into blurred obscurity. Serena stepped forward, a hand wrapping around Bernie’s waist, thumb smoothing against the edge of her apron. Their noses touched a little, faces close together, but they didn’t kiss. They simply relished in the warm sun on their faces, and being enveloped in understanding and comfort.

 

Two things broke them apart simultaneously. Jasmine plugged her phone into the stereo, which so far had been turned off, ready for someone to take control of the music at some point, and began playing some popular song Bernie recognised but couldn’t name. And Raf returned with a huge basket full of bread rolls and a blush on his cheeks. “Ah,” he stammered, as the women stepped away from one another, shyly. “Sorry. Burger receptacles have arrived.”

 

“Fancy serving up for me while I start the sausages?” Bernie asked, as she watched Serena move away, taking her wine glass down the step and into the garden. She felt the loss like a cold breeze, but smiled as Morven and Jasmine started wiggling a bit to the music, Morven grabbing Cameron’s hand and forcing him to jiggle a bit too. Jason stared at them in confusion, until Jasmine took his hand and encouraged him to dance as well. He did so, trying to copy her, not doing too bad a job.

 

“Of course,” Raf replied, and Bernie handed him the spatula as she moved to the table to collect the chicken thighs.

 

By seven o’clock, the food was all cooked thoroughly (carefully inspected by both Jason and his aunt, the latter giving Bernie a kiss right on the lips in front of everyone, not that any of them minded), and everyone had pulled chairs up into a small circle by the apple tree and was munching happily. Bernie watched as Serena left a drip of ketchup on her chin, and bit her lip a moment, before throwing caution to the wind and reaching to wipe it off. Serena smiled tenderly at her and sucked her thumb as she held it out to her. Their colleagues averted their eyes, trying to give their bosses privacy, which considering their proximity, was no easy feat.

 

“The garden is looking wonderful,” Ric commented, gesturing with his piece of chicken, and including both Serena and Bernie in his praise, having been party to detailed descriptions of Bernie’s part in the gardening activities since before Serena returned to AAU. “Really, very pleasant.”

 

“Thank you,” Serena said. “Certainly understand why gardening is classed as a therapeutic activity to those with mental health issues.”

 

“I had a friend at uni,” Jasmine said, “who was in hospital because of an anxiety disorder. She used to help in the garden. Found it really helpful.” They all nodded and murmured their agreement.

 

“How is your tomato plant?” Serena asked Morven.

 

“Taking over my bedroom,” Morven said, eyes rolling. “Had to buy ten bamboo canes. Did you know they don’t sell them individually? What a pain.”

 

“You should have said,” Serena replied, touch of affection in her voice. “I would have given you one.”

 

“We had exactly seven remaining after constructing the cages for our tomatoes,” Jason said. “You could have had one of the spare ones.” He thought for a moment. “According to my calculations, we could have made you a cage the same as the ones in the greenhouse. Bernie’s very good at using a saw.”

 

“I’ve amputated a lot of legs, Jason,” Bernie replied. “Bamboo canes are, in comparison, not difficult to cut.” They all chuckled, including Jason, who understood the joke.

 

“How was uni today, Charlie?” Serena asked, smiling warmly at the youngest of the group. Charlotte smiled at her.

 

“Boring. We have this lecturer who’s so dull. His name’s Tony Sweep, but everyone just calls him Tony Sleep. Because that’s what most people do when he talks.” She pretended to yawn, hand over her mouth.

 

“We had one like that,” Jasmine said, and flowed into a tale about her most boring anatomy tutor.

 

Serena finished her food and wiped her fingers on her napkin, balling it up and placing it on her plate. She turned to Bernie, who held out a hand, palm-up, and slotted her fingers into Bernie’s. They smiled at one another, turned back to the group. Morven was trying to feed Cameron the remainder of her sausage, and he was rolling his eyes and trying to see whether his mum was looking. Once he saw Serena’s hand in Bernie’s however, he relaxed a bit, opened his mouth and accepted the gift.

 

Everyone helped clear away after the food was gone, and congregated in the kitchen to pour more drinks. Jasmine was the only one willing to share Charlotte’s cider and even she wrinkled her nose, before saying: “It’s fine, I promise,” then sticking her tongue out at Cameron in jest, making him snort. Serena had finished her glass and chose a tumbler to fill with juice. Bernie gave her a slow smile, nodding her understanding, and took off her apron, hung it by the cooker. Serena nodded back.

 

Serena stooped down to the freezer to gather three flavours of pre-wrapped ice cream cones, and handed them out according to everyone’s tastes. They all unwrapped them in the kitchen, throwing the wrappers into the bin, before taking them and their drinks outside. Jason licked his ice cream happily – that particular brand was his favourite and it was his reward for helping out with all the food.

 

Ric sat with Serena again under the tree. He looked over at her and watched Raf, Jasmine, Jason and Bernie’s kids stand together by the stereo, choosing songs and bopping around to them. “Things alright?” he asked Serena. She nodded and watched Bernie lead Morven around the garden, then into the greenhouse.

 

“Very good, thank you.”

 

“Good.” There was a moment of quiet before Serena looked back at him, an impish look in her eyes.

 

“Did you ever call that French woman?” she asked him. His eyes went wide.

 

“Yes,” he replied, waiting for her to ask for more details. She smiled smugly.

 

“And?” He rolled his eyes.

 

“Romance certainly has blossomed,” he replied, with an air of flippancy. Serena knew him much better than that.

 

“Glad to hear it,” she replied. “Was starting to suspect you’d lost your touch.” He laughed, deep and bellowing, twirled his bottle in his fingers.

 

“No chance,” he replied, smiling.

 

Turning back to watch Bernie and Morven, she began to catch elements of their conversation, as they stood together in the greenhouse. “Sounds like your plant has lots of suckers,” Bernie was saying.

 

“What?” Morven asked.

 

Bernie leant forward, caught a branch in her hand and pointed with a finger of the other, at the apex between the trunk and the branch she held. “See here? We took out the branch that was growing here because it was surplus to requirements.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“And if you leave them, they get all deformed and have too many branches and ... it takes away the energy from the plant.”

 

“Oh,” Morven said again, looking a bit crestfallen.

 

“It’s okay,” Bernie reassured. “When you get home, just pull them off. They come off quite easily. And have you fed your plant?” Morven bit her lip and looked guiltily at her. Bernie smiled kindly. “I’ll do you a container with some feed in. Give your tomatoes a boost.”

 

Bernie went on to talk about peppers and spinach. Serena smiled affectionately, continued to watch her partner impart the wisdom she so recently had acquired. She felt warmth spreading through her chest and belly, an affectionate tingly feeling, caused by Bernie’s interaction with the junior doctor. Bernie had truly learnt, had truly listened to her whilst she’d been blabbering on about seeds and compost and gardens for the last four months. Serena couldn’t keep the smile off her face, put a hand to her chest for a moment, waves of affection for her wonderful Bernie overwhelming her a bit. Ric’s hand on her shoulder made her feel a little less breathless, she turned her smile to him, and he returned it. “Sounds like Ms Wolfe’s talents do not simply lie in trauma.” She nodded, unable to form words right at that moment.

 

They licked their ice creams happily, gobbled up the cones and turned up the music a bit. Bernie and Morven came back out of the greenhouse and Morven joined Cameron, who had consumed a couple of beers and slid an arm around her waist. They swayed from one side to the other. Bernie took Serena’s iPod and plugged it into the stereo and complained about the kids’ lack of culture. She pressed play and Dean Martin started to play. Being a big fan of that particular artist, Morven was more than pleased with the choice, and the others went along with her.

 

Bernie sat in her lawn chair next to Serena and Raf sat on Bernie’s other side. The older attendees watched the younger ones, chuckling as Charlotte and Cameron teased each other in that way siblings did.

 

Raf yawned and stretched back against the chair, drank deeply from his bottle of beer. The light was fading, orange tinged with pink across the sky. Serena was pleased to see the solar fairy lights Jason had installed months ago glow brightly from where they hung in the apple tree. Bernie’s hand slid back into hers as they relaxed and simply enjoyed one another’s company.

 

By nine o’clock, Raf was yawning frequently and Ric was snoring. The other three eyed Ric, hands over their mouths to stop the laughter from escaping, as he sat slumped in the chair, whiskey resting against his knee, head back and mouth open. In the end, it was Jason who shouted: “Mr Griffin. Are you alive?”

 

Ric sat up with a jolt and they all tried not to laugh and failed. Bernie raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you being picked up?” she asked.

 

“Françoise is collecting me at nine,” he said, looking at his watch. They all heard a perfectly timed beep from the front of the house and Ric stood, wobbly on slightly drunk and sleepy legs. “Night all.”

 

“I’ll walk you out,” Serena told him, widening her eyes at everyone else and following the staggering consultant into her house.

 

“I’ve never seen Mr Griffin drunk,” Jason said, his expression very interesting. “I’ve seen other old men drunk, mostly patients. They mostly don’t smell very nice.”

 

“He’s just had a bit too much whiskey, Jason,” Raf explained, good-naturedly.

 

“Why did he do that?”

 

“Because sometimes you have to have just a little bit too much whiskey,” Bernie replied, lifting her bottle and clearly under the influence.

 

Morven and Jasmine left together, now firm room-mates again, Raf left a little later than them. By Jason’s bedtime (ten o’clock on the dot), it was just Cameron and Charlotte remaining. Bernie and Serena walked them both to the door and crushing hugs were exchanged. Bernie pressed her face into Cameron’s hair and he squeezed her. He knew she’d had a few too many beers, but didn’t mind, was happy with this relaxed and content mum who didn’t mind squeezing him until his ribs might crack. “I love you so much,” she told him.

 

“Love you too, Mum,” he replied.

 

“Coffee next week?” She turned to Charlotte. “Both of you?” They all agreed to meet for coffee, Charlotte insisting Serena come too, and Jason if he was available.

 

The Carpenters were playing on the iPod when Serena and Bernie returned to the garden, hand in hand. Jason had gone upstairs to bed. The darkness had crept in whilst they had said goodbye to Bernie’s children and the solar fairy lights were shining a pleasant yellow in the tree. They gathered up all but two lawn chairs, put them safely away in the shed. Then they sat in the remaining chairs, hands clasped. A bat flickered in and out of the garden, catching insects. The birds were quiet. Serena smiled over at her partner, who had pulled on a comfortable-looking blue hoodie, had it tied in that way she usually did, a bow under her chin, then grabbed a woollen cardigan for Serena. Serena thought she’d never seen anything so very adorable that bow, Bernie’s sleepy eyes.

 

They sat in the quiet and peace for a while, listening to Karen Carpenter sing.

 

“Now. Now when it rains I don’t feel cold

Now that I have your hand to hold

The winds might blow through me but I don’t care

There’s no harm in thunder if you are there...”

 

Bernie pulled her chair close to Serena’s, leant her head against Serena’s shoulder. They sighed together.

 

“And now. Now when we touch my feelings fly

Now when I’m smiling I know why

You light up my world like the morning sun

You’re so deep within me we’re almost one ...”

 

“Seen any pigeons lately?” Bernie murmured and Serena chuckled.

 

“Nope. They don’t seem to like our garden.”

 

“Hmmm.”  

 

“Seen a few collared doves.”

 

“Doves are different,” Bernie said, clearly sleepy and slightly drunk. “They’re prettier.”

 

“Smaller too,” Serena remarked, snuggling into Bernie’s side. “Don’t ruin the bird feeder with their fat backsides.”

 

“True.”

 

Quiet between them again. The music changed to Air Supply.

 

“I was down, my dreams were wearing thin

When you’re lost, where do you begin?

My heart always seemed to drift from day to day

Looking for the love that never came my way.”

 

“I know this is a bit of an odd request,” Serena said, and Bernie lifted her head from her shoulder to catch her gaze. “But, would you dance with me?”

 

“Of course,” Bernie said, standing and holding out her hand. Serena caught her gaze and they stood together. Serena held Bernie’s waist with her hands, and Bernie leant her wrists against Serena’s shoulders.

 

“Then you smiled and I reached out to you

I could tell you were lonely too

One look then it all began for you and me

The moment that we touched I knew that there would be ...”

 

Serena mouthed the words as they swayed a bit, with the slow rhythm of the music.

 

“Two less lonely people in the word

And it’s gonna be fine

Out of all the people in the world

I just can’t believe you’re mine.

In this life where everything was wrong

Something finally went right

Now there’s two less lonely people in the world

Tonight.”

 

There were tiny tears in Serena’s eyes, but the smile on her face was sparkling. Bernie touched her cheek and moved in to gently kiss her, taking in the lyrics, knowing that they meant more to Serena than any other person she knew. Knowing that Serena meant more to her, Bernie, than anyone else in the world. Serena kissed her back, hands smoothing back and forth around her waist as they danced. When the kiss broke, they lay their cheeks against one another and closed their eyes, swaying gently.

 

They danced for a long time, neither of them really sure what time it was when they pulled back, the gaze between them sleepy and full of love. Bernie stroked Serena’s cheek with her thumb. “What a lovely day,” Bernie breathed, her voice seeming very loud in the quietness of the garden. The light from the fairy lights was fading. Even through their extra layers they were starting to feel the chill.

 

“It really was,” Serena replied. “I’m glad so many people could make it.” She smiled up at Bernie, closed her eyes with the caress against her cheek.

 

“Feels like everything’s ... okay now.” Bernie words were careful and Serena nodded.

  
“I think I’ve been forgiven, finally, perhaps, by everyone I’ve been a total monster to.” Serena sighed and smiled, genuinely. “And Morven and Cameron. Who saw that coming?”

 

“I did,” Bernie replied, a little offended. “And you still owe me chocolate for that.”

 

“It doesn’t count,” Serena bantered back, her voice soft. “It took them months to get up the courage to be together.”

 

“Sound familiar, doesn’t it?” Bernie asked, affectionately, dipping her head to kiss by Serena’s ear, a soft and slow kiss. Serena inhaled deeply and leant into it.

 

“Does actually,” she murmured. “Jason will have another couple to be influenced by in that respect.” Bernie kissed more of Serena’s neck, before laying her cheek against her and snuggling into the wool by her collar. Serena wrapped her arms around her back and they swayed for a few minutes more to the music, before Serena stepped back and held out a hand. “Come on, Darling. We’ve had a very long day.”

 

“Time for bed,” Bernie agreed.

 

They turned off the stereo. Then they walked hand in hand into the house, the two lawn chairs forgotten in the dark garden.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover Art: Green Fingers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377023) by [Kayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayryn/pseuds/Kayryn)




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